Chapter 1

1

I was so screwed.

In my past life, my sister got snatched up by some rich family, and I ended up with a freakin' cleaning lady.

Turns out, the high-society life was a warzone. Cold parents, a bully for a brother, and she ended up with absolutely nothing after a nasty divorce.

My life? Picture perfect. A loving family, a total dream, and a hot-shot millionaire who fell head over heels for me, the poor little nobody. Straight out of a rom-com.

Jealous as hell, my sister ran me over with her car, sending us both back to the day we got adopted.

Now, she's making a beeline for the cleaning lady, screaming:

"This time, I’m playing the leading lady, not you!"

Too bad for her, being the main character isn't about what you're born into.

...

My sister and I woke up in the orphanage, reliving the day we were supposed to get adopted.

Two families were standing in the director's office: the Garrets and the Millers.

The Garrets―all three of them―were decked out.

Mr. Garrett was in a tailored suit, and Mrs. Garrett dripped in jewels.

Their son, Chad Garrett, looked like he'd just stepped out of a private school catalogue, complete with limited-edition sneakers.

The Garretts were basically royalty in this town. Mr. Garrett owned half the city, and Mrs. Garrett was always plastered across gossip magazines.

Chad was the golden prince.

Next to them, the Millers looked like they’d crawled out of a coal mine.

Their hands were rough, their clothes were worn, but they seemed nice enough. The director said they both worked at the local high school; he was a janitor, and she was a custodian.

Last time, my sister, Tiffany, didn't hesitate for a second before latching herself onto the Garrets.

But not this time. She all but dove into the Miller’s arms.

"Mommy, take me home! I want to be your daughter!"

"From now on, call me Tiffany Miller!"

With Tiffany practically vibrating with excitement, I walked over to the Garrets.

And just like that, it was done. We were officially adopted.

As we left the orphanage, I heard the director muttering to herself.

"That's strange. Tiffany’s usually all about the fanciest stuff. If someone looked poor, she wouldn't even glance at them."

"Why didn't she choose the rich family?"

The director didn't get it.

But I did.