The Heiress Hoax

From the back cover

The Texas heat shimmered, another ranch chore done. For years, strange comments floated in the air, a private, unsolicited social media feed just for me. Sometimes oddly accurate, sometimes nonsense.

Then a woman and a girl appeared on our porch, clutching a fake DNA report. "She’s your daughter too," Maria Rodriguez declared, claiming my life. The air crackled. New comments hissed: "Here comes trouble. The real heiress arrives." My blood ran cold.

I’d lived this day before. Last time, I followed the comments' treacherous advice. They said Ashley loved peanut butter cookies, so I baked them; she nearly died from a severe allergy. My parents' love turned to suspicion. Later, the comments screamed "Ashley’s in danger!" I rushed to help, only to be framed by Maria with fake texts and videos, making my parents believe I was a monster. Disowned, I was sent away, then found and brutally killed in a staged car accident.

The comments, my supposed guides, were actually my undoing, twisting my actions, alienating my family, and sealing my doom. The horror of reliving this nightmare again and again was unbearable.

But waking up today, with the sun on my face, the same day endless: I refused to be a puppet. This time, I would fight back, armed with the knowledge of their lies.