Chapter 3

"Enough!" Will's brow creased as he watched Ivy shield Stewart and Cora. "Stephanie is your own daughter. Why do you keep protecting an outsider?"

"After today, the way Great-Uncle Gerald put it, I doubt Stewart will ever set foot in the Simmons Group again."

Stewart's breath caught, and his eyes went wide.

He was Will's only son, counted among the promising young men of his generation in the Simmons family.

The year he graduated, twenty-three years old, he'd joined the Simmons Group and worked his way up step by step to a junior management post at a subsidiary.

His engagement had just been settled,

and Great-Uncle Gerald had been ready to move him up to the head company. Now all of it was ruined.

After a long silence, Will suddenly asked, "I hear you scored first in the whole city this time?"

My chest tightened as I nodded that it was true. His expression softened a little. "Study hard. You're only fifteen now, but if you ever take an interest in finance, you could come try your hand at the company."

Stewart's eyes snapped wide. It was the first time Will had ever acknowledged me, and the first time he'd ever offered to let me come to the company someday.

"No!"

Ivy shot it down almost on reflex, glaring at me, her voice thick with displeasure.

"What business does a girl have at the company? A married-out daughter is water poured out the door. You promote her into the company, and someday it's all just a gift to some other family!"

"Right now what matters is helping Stewart!"

"We just need Great-Uncle Gerald and the others to see that the one in the wrong is Stephanie. Tomorrow I'll take Stephanie to the old family house and have her set the record straight with everyone. I won't let this money-drain of a girl ruin my son."

A shudder ran through me, and I jerked my head up to look at her.

In that moment she felt terrifyingly like a stranger, slowly merging with the nanny from my memories.

I thought back to the third month after I was brought home.

That day happened to be my birthday, and Stewart had told me early on that we'd celebrate.

"Cora's birthday isn't actually today, but she's so thoughtful. She said she didn't want us forgetting you, so she moved her own birthday to this date."

I nodded, not fully understanding, aching for that day, only because I hadn't had a birthday in seven years.

But the day before, Cora dissolved into tears, saying she didn't want her birthday on that day after all.

Stewart scrambled to comfort her.

Cora choked out between sobs, "Stewart, I don't want to be someone else's shadow. All these years I've never once had a birthday that was really mine."

Ivy and Stewart's hearts ached at that, and the next day the birthday dinner that had been arranged was called off.

There was a hollow ache in my chest, and I worked up the courage to ask, "Mom, could you buy me a small cake? I've never had one..."

"Some other day."

She was picking out new clothes for Cora, and answered without looking up. "It's just a cake. What's so good about it."

That birthday I'd waited so long for slipped past, quiet and unmarked.

It wasn't until six months later that I finally tasted a birthday cake, at Cora's party. Ivy and Stewart booked out an entire hotel for her and had a nine-tier cake specially made.

I cradled a small slice, careful with it. The frosting was stiff, sweet to the point of bitterness, and as I ate the tears just fell.

So this was a birthday cake?

The village kids had always bragged that cake was fragrant and sweet. Why did mine taste so bitter?