The Double ( or More ?) Life of The Fake Heiress

Chapter 12

From a young age, Delilah always found herself at the center of her friends‘ playful jests whenever she brought her daughter around her besties. They would tease her incessantly, scrutinizing her and her daughter’s faces, joking suggesting that maybe there had been a mix–up at the hospital because the child bore no resemblance to her.

It wasn’t as though her daughter wasn’t attractive. Quite the contrary. All of Delilah’s children had been cherubic in their youth. Yet Summer, when compared with her older brothers, seemed remarkably plain, compounded by the fact that both Delilah and her husband were exceptionally good–looking. This only fueled further teasing from her friends.

As Delilah reminisced, there was a painful truth to those playful words. Shaking off her wandering thoughts, she softly called out. “Mira.”

Mirabella’s expression remained as impassive as ever, lacking the excitement one might expect upon seeing one’s birth parents. She merely nodded a polite greeting.

Seeing Mirabella’s frosty demeanor, Summer quickly jumped in to explain, “Mom, Mira just got back from the countryside. She might need some time to get used to everything again.”

prior and had sensed her withdrawn nature. So, while she felt a twinge of disappointment that Mirabella didn’t call her ‘mom,‘ she wasn’t particularly surprised. After all being mistakenly switched at birth and raised by the Gilbert

Summer, with a fleeting shadow crossing her face. She quickly masked it with an indifferent smile. “Summer, you’ve been such a dear, going to the airport to

then turned to her eldest son. “Emmitt, would you mind taking Ms. Summer

shift from ‘Summer‘ to ‘Ms. Summer‘ flushed Summer’s cheeks with embarrassment. She opened her mouth

more distant. She cut Summer off

slightly in

fifties, she looked no more than in her thirties, with barely a wrinkle to betray her age. Despite her smile, there was an undeniable strength in her demeanor- a

watched thoughtfully, her gaze introspective.

lip as her eyes misted over. Her face seemed,to bear the weight of a great injustice. She couldn’t understand how the woman who had once doted on her could suddenly become so cutting, all because her