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prior and had sensed her withdrawn nature.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 family in a quaint town before returning

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

eldest son. “Emmitt, would

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

didn’t let it show. Collecting her thoughts, Delilah’s smile seemed to grow more distant. She cut Summer off before she could say anything. “From now on, it might be best if you address me as Ms. Delilah.”

eyebrows raised slightly

Although she was in her fifties, she looked no more than in her thirties, with barely a

watched thoughtfully, her gaze

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 biological daughter had returned. If that was the case, it seemed a cruel hypocrisy.