Chapter 2

The room the Gilberts gave my mother and me was at the very back of the second floor.

You could tell they wanted nothing to do with us.

All day my mother sat there uneasy, wringing her hands. "Carla, maybe we should just go home."

"Why would we go home?"

I pressed my hand over hers. "This is your home, Mom."

I couldn't help but feel a quiet frustration at how timid she was.

In my last life, it was exactly because she never dared to fight for what was hers.

That was how she ended up with that miserable fate.

Even if she'd just let the Gilberts see how much she'd suffered.

It never would have come to that.

That evening, dinnertime came.

The whole Gilbert family sat at the table, including Layla's husband.

And her son and daughter.

When my mother and I came down, there was no place left for us at the table.

The family sat together, warm and cozy.

As if the two of us standing off to the side were thin air.

My mother clutched my hand and lowered her head, at a loss, teeth stubbornly worrying her lip.

"Carla, let's just go back upstairs."

"Why should we go upstairs? Didn't you say you were taking me home? Didn't they say you're Grandpa Gilbert's real daughter? Then why isn't there even a seat for us at dinner? Did the Gilberts get the wrong person after all?"

I raised my voice on purpose.

And for a moment, that polished mask of upper-class dignity they all wore.

Was about to slip right off.

Every eye in the room turned toward us at once.

At the head of the table, old Dominic slowly lifted his head and gestured for a servant to bring a chair.

Then he looked at Horace. "What is this? Your sister comes home today, and no one thought to set a place for her?"

"Father, I didn't think it through. It won't happen again."

Horace stood and answered with his head bowed.

As he sat back down, he still didn't forget to shoot me a look.

Once Dominic had settled again, his gaze fell on me, and he waved me over.

"Come sit beside me."

In an instant, everyone in the room froze mid-motion.

"Father, she's only a child!"

Samuel couldn't hold it in.

But Horace signaled the servant to carry the chair over.

My mother caught my hand, nervous. "Carla…"

I turned my hand and patted hers, telling her not to worry.

Then I walked up to old Dominic.

The book had said that in his youth Dominic had ruled the business world, a cold, ruthless man.

Apart from his wife, he'd felt little for anyone.

So it stood to reason he felt little for this daughter he hadn't seen in so many years either.

Bringing her back was only to honor his late wife's dying wish.

And yet now, this sharp-eyed old man had a different light in his eyes when he looked at me.

"Alike. So alike."

"You look just like Maggie did when she was young."

He murmured it, then asked me, "How old are you this year?"

"Seventeen."

I answered each question in turn.

After dinner, Dominic made the call: he told the eldest Gilbert son to enroll me in school tomorrow.

"Put her in the same school as Bruce and Wendy, so they can look out for her."

At that, Wendy immediately objected. "Grandpa, our school is very strict. Why should some country bumpkin get to—"

"What did you say?"

Dominic's face went cold on the spot.

The mood at the table froze along with it.

Layla forced out a strained smile. "Father, Wendy didn't mean it that way. It's just that Westfield Prep has always had very strict standards, and Carla's just transferred in from a country school. I worry she'll have a hard time keeping up with the coursework."

"Maybe it'd be better to start her off at the vocational high school out in the suburbs."

"Carla, what do you think?"

Dominic looked at me.

I glanced at Layla, then turned back to Grandpa. "Grandpa, I want to go to Westfield Prep. I can pass the entrance exam."

"Good. Westfield Prep it is."

There was a new note of approval in the way Dominic looked at me.

"Tch. Country bumpkin, all talk."

Bruce muttered it from the seat beside me.

I didn't bother with him.