They Chose Wrong Chapter 1

I was the Sinclair’s real daughter, the one they swapped at birth.

But when the imposter and I were tied up on a skyscraper rooftop, and they were forced to choose one of us, I was the one they let go.

Chloe was saved. I was pushed off the eighteenth floor.

By some miracle, I survived. And in that moment, any lingering hope I had for them died.

Then, almost overnight, everything changed.

My parents, who had treated me with nothing but disdain, started cautiously asking about my favorite foods. My brother, who had once wished me dead, began sending me expensive jewelry. Even my fiancé, who swore I’d never measure up to Chloe, started planning our wedding.

I had no idea what was going on.

* * *

I was dragging my suitcase down the marble entryway when I ran into Eleanor Sinclair—my mother—returning home with Chloe. A uniformed driver followed them, his arms laden with shopping bags from high-end boutiques. They were arm in arm, the picture of a perfect mother-daughter pair.

Chloe’s eyes landed on my suitcase, her expression a mask of manufactured surprise.

"Audrey," she said, her voice dripping with false concern. "Don't tell me you're running away just because Mom forgot to pick you up a little something from her trip."

I dropped the handle of my suitcase. "A gift?" I stared at them. "You already gave me my eighteenth birthday present. You stood by and let them push me off an eighteen-story building." I let a bitter smile touch my lips. "Now that's what I call a generous gift."

A familiar wave of irritation washed over Eleanor’s face. "Audrey, that was an accident," she snapped. "The kidnapper forced our hand. Did you want us to just stand there and watch Chloe die? Besides," she added, her voice chillingly dismissive, "you’re standing right here, aren't you?"

Standing right here. After being pushed from a rooftop, even landing on the firefighters’ airbag meant three months in a hospital bed before I could even learn to walk again.

Not one of them came to visit me. Not once.

These were my people. My blood.

I was their daughter, but because Chloe's parents had switched us at birth, I was the one who suffered fifteen years of starvation, abuse, and humiliation. Even after the truth came out, they still poured all their affection onto Chloe, the girl who had stolen my life. For me, there was only criticism and suspicion, a constant assumption that I had some ulterior motive.

It used to break my heart. Now, it didn't stir a thing.

I had already found an apartment to rent. I had a little money saved up, enough to last me until I graduated and could leave this city for good.

From now on, Audrey was going to have a good life.

I shouldered my backpack and grabbed my suitcase. "Chloe couldn't die," I said, my voice steady. "But I wanted to live, too. Since you made your choice back then, you can just consider Audrey dead from this day forward. I won't bother you again."

A flicker of triumph crossed Chloe's face before she could hide it. She opened her mouth to offer some empty, placating words, but Eleanor cut her off, her expression turning to ice.

"You said that, Audrey. Not us," she warned. "Don't you dare come crawling back to this house one day, because I won't let you in."

I nodded, my voice crisp. "Don't worry. I wouldn't step foot in this house again if I were dying on the doorstep."

"Audrey, have you thought about how much this will hurt Dad and Evan?" Chloe chimed in from beside Eleanor, her tone dripping with feigned sincerity. "It all happened so fast. They were just panicked and worried about me. And after all, the Sinclairs have provided for you all these years."

It was a veiled reminder, as always, that I was an outsider. A charity case. Chloe had used this tactic a hundred times, and every time before, I had lost control, screaming at them, demanding to know why I, their real daughter, didn't deserve a single drop of their love.

Chloe lived in a bright, luxurious suite of rooms, with a staff to cater to her every whim.

I was given the small, dark utility closet under the stairs, so cramped it couldn't fit a desk or a proper dresser. The only sunlight I ever got was a narrow sliver that cut across my cot for an hour when the sun was at its highest. I was their flesh and blood, yet I lived like a rat in the walls, scurrying to survive in the shadows of their grand life.

But finally, I was done hoping for more.

"Provided for me?" I looked straight at Chloe, then at Eleanor. "I lived in a storage closet. I ate whatever was left on the catering trays after one of your parties. You never bought me a single article of clothing. I paid for my own school fees and living expenses with part-time jobs. For three years, you haven't spent a dime on me. In fact, considering all the housework I did, I’d say you owe me back wages."

"That's enough!"

A sharp voice cut through the air from behind me.