Fake heiress Real heroine

Chapter 2

The boy, Joseph Wilson, had finally settled his nerves, nibbling on a morsel of food, his demeanor a stark contrast to the other frightened children. His eyes darted toward the doorway, a shadow of worry lingering in their depths.

When the officer’s question pierced the air, his lips were poised to utter the words that someone had aided their escape.

But before he could voice his secret, a warm touch enveloped his hand. Joseph’s head turned, revealing a petite, willowy girl standing serenely beside him.

“You” he started, a blend of astonishment and joy flickering across his face, ready to reveal her as his helper. Yet, a subtle squeeze of his fingers served as a swift reminder that unveiling her identity could spell disaster.

“What’s the occasion here? Who does this child belong to?” The officer, clutching a registration form, peered at Quinlyn with bewilderment, her attire not hinting at a life of privilege.

Instinctively, Joseph stepped forward, shielding Quinlyn with his body and crafting a seamless alibi. “She’s the girl Mr. Anderson’s family recently discovered. Living in the countryside, she was unfortunately swept up in our abduction on her way back to the city.”

The officer’s gaze softened with a hint of sympathy, as if murmuring, “Misfortune indeed,” but he didn’t probe further.

Joseph claimed he’d wrestled free from his bonds and fled. The darkness and fear had blinded the others, rendering Quinlyn invisible. Thus, as he guided her back into the throng, suspicion remained a distant echo.

“Thank you,” Quinlyn murmured, drifting to a corner, her gratitude a quiet whisper.

Joseph handed her bread and milk, chuckling softly. The thanks are mine. Without you, our plight would be dire.”

His hubris had led him into the kidnappers‘ trap. Reflecting on it now, embarrassment tinged his cheeks..

As his gaze lingered on Quinlyn, he marveled at how she, so delicate, had orchestrated their escape. His eyes caught the bag at her feet. “What’s that?”

replied without

bag, skeptical of its contents, and inquired,

perilous town. Little did he know that Quinlyn was viewed with dread, a specter haunting the villagers‘

her bread and replied succinctly. “The

a security number is a must for travel and education. Without it, you might resort to illegal labor.

puzzled glance; she had a network of contacts and employers eager to welcome her.

plan. On our journey here, Mr. Anderson’s child

at his head, thinking that this

be someone else’s child wasn’t as simple as he made it sound, If it were, the Andersons wouldn’t have spent. weeks searching. One blood test would expose the charade. But desperate for

now

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Tue, 18 Mar

Chapter 2

and parents trickled in to reclaim their children. Quinlyn stood armudit the crowd, reluctant to move, but Joseph propelled her toward a middle–aged

man,

startled by Joseph’s words, and then noticed Quinlyn’s disheveled, dirt–streaked appearance. Disgust creased

and declared firmly, “That’s not

remind me of Dad,” he muttered, still awaiting the DNA test results. Playing it safe, he decided to

the kids‘ narrow escapes. Quinlyn was whisked

Hailey’s grandfather, called

wife, opposed Quinlyn’s visit to Anderson Manor. “We’re not even sure if she’s

heart is set on

murmured, “Even though Harriet is adopted, she’s like our own flesh and blood. Mr. Anderson is clearly biased.” Despite her words, she eventually relented.

new outfit en route. “When you see him, remember to call him grandpa and act sweetly, alright?”

eyes were fixed ahead on the opulent villas

emerged from the grand estate to escort them inside. They warmly greeted Quinlyn, treating her like a long–lost relative, stuffing her pockets with candies before

hair a snowy crown. From the moment Quinlyn entered, his gaze was riveted on her. Though his expression seemed stern, his eyes betrayed a

has been wandering around and was even taken to the borderlands, enduring so much,” Maurice said. nudging Quinlyn forward for