Chapter 3

In the photo, she had her arm linked through Hazel's, the two of them smiling like the closest of friends.

The caption read: "My daughter is so devoted, insisting on taking me abroad on a luxury cruise to see the world. What good did all those years of raising her do her adoptive mother? She still isn't close to her at all."

Hazel liked it instantly and commented.

"Only after finding my real mother did I learn what it feels like to be loved by family."

"Without blood ties, we're strangers in the end."

Her biological mother replied right away:

"If your adoptive mother hadn't hidden you away so carefully, I would have found you long ago, and you wouldn't have had to suffer so much."

I stared at the screen, my fingers trembling.

Hidden her away so carefully?

Back then I filed police reports, ran notices in the newspaper, put up missing-person flyers—I searched for two whole years!

She was the one who never wanted to be found!

My son couldn't stand it and called Hazel directly.

"Hazel, delete that comment right now and apologize to Mom!"

On the other end of the line, Hazel's voice turned shrill.

"Reuben, Mom has trained you into obedience—you have no idea what real motherly love is! Real motherly love doesn't control her children!"

My son was so angry his face went white.

I, on the other hand, was strangely calm. I called my lawyer.

"Attorney Simmons, all the money I've spent on my adopted daughter over the years—can I get it all back from her biological mother?"

Attorney Simmons was quiet for a moment.

"It can be done, but only on one condition: you'd first have to dissolve the adoption with your adopted daughter."

My heart ached.

A daughter I'd raised for fifteen years—it would be a lie to say I didn't care.

But when I thought about the things she'd said, the anger made my chest hurt again.

Just then, a spending alert popped up on my phone.

The shared payment account I'd set up for Hazel had just been charged thirty-eight thousand dollars.

I tapped it open—a purchase from some high-end brand.

I refreshed her feed again. Hazel had posted new photos.

She'd taken her mother to the mall to buy clothes for the trip, bags and bags of them.

The caption read: "From now on, I'm going to repay my real mother properly."

I was so angry I shut off the shared payment account on the spot.

Right then, the school abroad called again.

"Ms. Dickerson, we'd like to confirm with you one last time: the three-million-dollar sponsorship fee—are you sure you want to take it back?"

I took a deep breath.

"I'm sure."

Hazel's SAT scores were terrible; by rights she should only have qualified for a community college.

It was I who tracked down an old administrator at my alma mater and secured that study-abroad spot for her, with a sponsorship of three million dollars a year.

For that spot, I pulled every string and talked myself hoarse.

I told myself she shouldn't lose her whole future over one setback.

But only today did I understand that all of it had been nothing but her revenge.

She'd deliberately turned in a blank exam and tanked it, just to watch me panic, run myself ragged for her, and get played for a fool.

Thinking of all the tutoring sessions I'd sat through with her over the years, all the nights I'd stayed up, I felt it had all been for nothing.

Since she thought her real mother was better in every way.

Then let her real mother take her on trips and pay her sponsorship fees to study abroad.

Early the next morning, Attorney Simmons brought over the agreement to dissolve the adoption.

I signed it without hesitation.

Then I had someone throw everything out of Hazel's room.

All these years, she'd lived in the best bedroom in the house—south-facing, with its own private bathroom.

There was no need for that anymore.

Once it was all done, I felt light as air, and went to the salon for a treatment.

I'd just lain down when Hazel's newest post came up in my feed.