Chapter 1

When my biological parents finally tracked me down, I was sitting on a folding stool by the curb, reading someone's palm.

"You cannot marry within the next three years," I told my client calmly. "Otherwise, your fortune will be completely drained."

My biological family stood in a stiff line, staring at me in sheer disbelief. Lucas let out a loud, mocking snort.

I glanced at him. "If the reading is not accurate, it is completely free. Would you like a reading, sir?"

Tears instantly flooded my biological mother's eyes. "My poor baby, I am your mother. Please, come home with us."

I looked at the four people standing before me, and a single thought crossed my mind.

They were shrouded in pitch-black energy, and their days were numbered.

1.

I packed up my folding table, brass compass, brushes, and yellow parchment paper, stuffing everything into my little handcart.

"I need to go back and pack my things," I said. "My place is messy, so you should wait outside."

Mrs. Holloway insisted on coming along, leaving the rest of them no choice but to follow.

The four of them trailed behind me down the grimy, narrow alleyway where stray rats darted across the pavement. Behind me, someone made a dry retching sound. "Can human beings even live here?"

I stopped and looked back. "Of course. I've lived here for over ten years."

Lucas's expression shifted uncomfortably. I ignored him and kept walking until I reached a faded red door.

I pushed it open to reveal a cramped room with a simple stove, a wooden table, and a noisy box fan.

I opened the side closet and started gathering my clothes.

Lucas pinched his nose in disgust. "Why are you keeping these rags? Once you get to our house, Mom will buy you a brand-new wardrobe."

Before I could answer, a crowd of neighbors poured through the door, surrounding the Holloway family.

"You must be Brooke's family! You have to treat her well, this poor child has suffered so much!"

"You look like wealthy folks. What took you so many years to find her?"

"I heard you kept an adopted daughter all this time. Who knows how she will treat our Brooke?"

I grew up without parents, raised entirely by these kind neighbors and my old mentor. They were thrilled that my real family had found me, yet reluctant to see me go.

Aunt Martha began shoving heavy bags into my arms. "We bought you these new clothes. Throw out those old rags. You need fresh clothes for your new life."

Soon, my arms were filled with bundles. The edge of a plastic bag brushed against Mrs. Holloway's designer coat.

She recoiled instantly in disgust. When she caught me looking, she tried to cover her embarrassment by reaching out to help.

"No need," I said flatly.

She did not insist. The others clearly found the bags too dirty to touch, so my neighbors helped me carry everything to their luxury SUV.

I climbed into the back seat, clutching my yellow canvas bag against my chest.

Lucas scowled. "You're not bringing those unlucky occult items home, are you? We don't have space for that garbage."

Mrs. Holloway smacked his arm. "Lucas! How dare you speak to your sister like that?"

I met their eyes in the rearview mirror. "If that's the case, I won't go back with you."

I reached for the door handle. Lucas froze, clearly shocked that I would walk away, his mouth opening and closing without a sound.

My older brother, Logan, finally spoke up. "Lucas. Apologize."

Lucas muttered a sullen, reluctant "Sorry."

Once the car started moving, Mrs. Holloway began asking about my past, lamenting how much I must have suffered out in the cold world.

The term "biological parents" felt completely foreign to me. I never even had adoptive parents.

Years ago, when child traffickers tried to break my arms to turn me into a street beggar, my mentor rammed through the crowd and stole me back from the brink of death.

I answered Mrs. Holloway's questions simply, but the tension inside the vehicle grew suffocating.

I looked at the girl beside me who had not stopped sniffling. "Is she a Holloway child too?"

Lucas snapped, "You barely set foot in this family and you already want to kick Chloe out? Even if you're back, we will never send Chloe away!"

Logan chimed in with a gentle tone. "Chloe has lived with us for eighteen years, Brooke. We love her like our own. We will treat you as family, but please don't target Chloe."

Chloe's eyes were rimmed with red. "I'm sorry, Brooke. I don't know how this mix-up happened either. If seeing me upsets you, I can move out."

I looked at their defensive faces one by one. "I only asked if she was your child. Why are you all so defensive?"

Realizing they had overreacted, Mrs. Holloway rushed to smooth things over. "Chloe was the baby swapped with you at the clinic by mistake. Brooke, from now on, you are the older sister, and Chloe is your little sister."

According to my astrological chart, I lacked the water element, which was why my mentor named me Brooke.

I gave a faint nod and stayed silent.

Chloe's quiet weeping gave me a headache, so I closed my eyes to rest until the car pulled up to the grand Holloway mansion.

When we got out, nobody offered to help with my luggage. The four of them walked straight into the house before realizing they had left me behind on the driveway.

Mrs. Holloway hurried back outside. We locked eyes, and I simply walked right past her with my bags.

Seeing me carry everything myself made them look uneasy. Lucas, who had been dabbing Chloe's tears with a tissue, balled the napkin up in his fist.

Logan scolded the housekeepers. "The young lady just arrived. Why didn't anyone carry her bags?"

I watched him shift the blame onto the staff. "No need. I have hands."

Mrs. Holloway looked even more guilty. "Brooke, your bedroom upstairs isn't ready yet. Would you mind staying in the first-floor guest room for now?"

I nodded. "Do the three of them sleep on the second floor?"

Lucas scoffed. "You just got here and you're already eyeing our rooms?"

Chloe quickly pulled his sleeve. "Brooke, Lucas is just protective because we grew up together. If you want my room on the second floor, I can give it to you."

I shook my head. "No thanks. I don't want to sleep in a room you lived in. It ruins my spiritual aura."

Without waiting for their reaction, I turned and walked into my room.

That evening, the housekeeper called me out for dinner. The family was already seated around the long dining table, leaving an empty chair right next to Chloe.

"Good evening, Brooke," Chloe greeted me with a sweet, angelic smile.

I stared at her. Her biological mother was the woman who swapped our cribs and threw me out like trash.

If my mentor had not found me, I would have died as an infant in a frozen ditch.

With that truth burned into my mind, I could never bring myself to smile at her.

Chloe lowered her head, looking utterly humiliated as her eyes welled with tears.

Logan frowned at me. "Brooke, Chloe was speaking to you."

I kept eating. My left hand slipped, and the soup spoon clattered hard into my ceramic bowl.

"I heard her," I said. "I just didn't feel like answering."

Hearing the crash, Logan's brow furrowed deeper. "Where are your manners? Is this how your mentor and those street people raised you?"

They could insult me, but they had no right to insult the people who kept me alive.

"What kind of people do you think they are?" I snapped. "You force me to sit at the same table with a thief's daughter, and then you lecture me on manners?"

Chloe burst into tears, her sobs echoing across the dining room. Lucas jumped to his feet. "What is your problem? Chloe bought you a bunch of welcome gifts when she heard you were coming!"

"Gifts?" I dropped my cutlery. "You weren't the one thrown into a dumpster in the dead of winter wearing only a paper-thin shirt. You never had to beg for scraps or dodge people trying to break your bones."

I pulled up my left sleeve, exposing several hideous, jagged scars. In some spots, the muscle was deeply indented.

The spoon had slipped earlier because my left arm was crippled.

Logan's face drained of color, his apology catching in his throat.

Mrs. Holloway gasped in horror, while Mr. Holloway's eyes filled with sudden grief. "Brooke... tomorrow, Logan will take you to the best specialist in the city."

I pulled my sleeve back down. "No need. My mentor took me to doctors years ago. This arm can move, but it has no strength left."

I looked straight at Logan. "So forgive me, brother. When I was a child, all I cared about was eating and staying alive. Nobody taught me high-society etiquette."

"I only learned how to survive. It seems I am not worthy of sitting at your lavish dinner table. I'm full."

Logan stood up, looking distraught. "Brooke, I was wrong. I'm sorry."

I turned back at the doorway. "If I told you that this house can only have one of us―either her or me―who would you choose?"

Lucas opened his mouth to fight back, but the sight of my scarred arm choked the words in his throat.

Mrs. Holloway sat frozen, completely speechless.

Mr. Holloway cleared his throat with a stern expression. "Chloe is a daughter we raised for eighteen years. If we kick her out the moment we find you, what will society think of the Holloway family? Brooke, I expect you to get along with her."

I gave them one final look. "So if you were forced to make a choice, you wouldn't choose me."

Nobody spoke. I scoffed and shut the door behind me.

The next morning, I woke up to my stomach growling. It was ironic that on my very first day in a billionaire's mansion, I couldn't even get a full meal.

I put on the new sweater Aunt Martha had bought for me―a bright green knit with a little cartoon cat on the chest.

When I stepped into the hallway, the family was already awake. Lucas stared at my sweater, holding back a laugh.

"What on earth are you wearing?" he smirked.

I tugged at the hem. "It's brand new. No patches, never worn by anyone else. What's wrong with it?"

Lucas's grin vanished instantly. Remembering my past, he looked down at his phone in deep embarrassment.

Logan handed me a glass of warm milk, which I sipped slowly. Mrs. Holloway called me over for breakfast, but I took one look at the table and shook my head.

"I'm allergic to eggs."

Mrs. Holloway glanced nervously at the egg-topped noodles on the table and quickly told the cook to prepare a fresh bowl for me.

Only after finishing the bowl of plain noodles did the hollow ache in my stomach finally settle.

After breakfast, Mrs. Holloway handed me a black card with ten thousand dollars, telling me to buy some proper clothes.

Perhaps out of lingering guilt, Lucas volunteered. "I'll drive her to the mall."

Chloe's smile froze. "Lucas, didn't you promise to accompany me to pick up my custom jewelry today?"

Lucas hesitated, his gaze darting between us before he stepped toward me. "Sorry, Chloe. Brooke is new here and has no friends. You should take your bestie instead."

Lucas went to fetch his sports car, leaving Chloe and me standing by the front gates.