The Fake Heiress's Scheme
I had spent seventeen years at Green Hill Farm, and every morning, the first thing I did was go to the backyard to feed the chickens.
Today was no different. Clutching a handful of cornmeal, I walked up to the chicken coop.
Golden corn kernels scattered on the ground, and a flock of hens immediately gathered to peck at them, their clucking echoing through the yard.
"Karina, are you home?" At the gate, I heard my foster father, Jack Donald's voice, his tone heavier than usual.
I wiped the cornmeal from my hands and turned to answer, "Dad, I'm feeding the chickens."
Walking into the yard, I saw two strangers standing beside my foster father—a man and a woman—dressed in neat suits and dresses, completely out of place amidst the farm's earthy atmosphere.
The man appeared to be about fifty, his hair perfectly groomed, his sharp eyes exuding the presence of someone in authority.
When he looked at me, his brows knitted slightly, as if appraising an object.
The woman wore an off-white dress, and her face was made up with delicate makeup.
But her eyes were red-rimmed, and her hands gripped the purse strap tightly; when her gaze landed on me, it held a complex mix of emotions—excitement, along with a subtle hint of unease.
"Karina, these two are..." My foster father paused, his voice low, "your biological parents, Richard Zimmerman and Diana Sullivan."
The words "biological parents" exploded in my ears like a thunderclap.
Actually, I had known for a long time that I wasn't their biological child—I overheard their conversation when I was little.
They said I was a baby switched at the hospital seventeen years ago, and they had been quietly searching for my biological parents all these years but never dared to tell me.
But when I finally saw them, my heart started pounding uncontrollably, a strange yet familiar feeling rising inside me, and tears instantly welled up in my eyes.
Diana Sullivan hurried over to me, reached out to touch my face, then suddenly pulled back, her voice trembling: "Karina, my daughter, I have finally found you."
Her tears fell onto the dress, spreading into a small patch of dampness.
But as I looked at her, I couldn't bring myself to throw my arms around her and cry like I'd seen on TV. I just stood there stiffly, my fingers clenched tightly around the hem of my dress.
Richard Zimmerman stepped forward, patted Diana Sullivan's shoulder, and looked at me with an unyielding authority:
"Karina, it was a hospital mistake that kept you on the farm for seventeen years, where you endured so much. Now we've come to take you home, to come with us."
"Going home?" I paused for a moment, then looked at my foster father. "Dad, I..."
My foster father sighed, came to my side, and gently patted my back. "Karina, for these seventeen years, your mom and I have loved you as our own daughter."
"Now that your biological parents have found you, whether you want to go with them or stay here, I will respect your choice."
My foster mother came out of the house, her eyes red, and held my hand. "Karina, no matter what you choose, this will always be your home."
Diana Sullivan immediately said, "Karina, come back with me."
"Our family is well-off; we can give you the best education and the best life. The love you've lost all these years, we will make up for it twice over."
Richard Zimmerman also said, "We've already arranged for you to attend a prestigious high school and prepared a room you'll love. Whatever you want, we can provide."
Their words were like honey, but as I looked at my foster parents' faces, lined with wrinkles, a wave of sadness washed over me.
Over the years, though my foster parents were poor, they never let me suffer any wrongs.
They always prepared my winter coats early and picked the sweetest watermelons in summer; they gave me the very best.
But Richard Zimmerman and Diana Sullivan are my biological parents, and the bond of blood is something I can't ignore.
I stayed silent for a long time, then finally lifted my head and looked at Richard Zimmerman and Diana Sullivan. "I'll go with you, but I want to come back often to see my parents."
When my foster parents heard my decision, a flash of sadness crossed their eyes, but they still smiled and nodded. "Alright, come back whenever you want. I will make your favorite braised pork."
Diana Sullivan immediately smiled and took my hand. "That's wonderful, Karina. Let's go now and head home so I can make you something delicious."
I got into the car with Richard Zimmerman and Diana Sullivan, watching the farm fade away outside the window, feeling both excited and uneasy.
I didn't know what kind of life awaited me.
The car pulled into an upscale neighborhood and stopped in front of a detached villa.
Richard Zimmerman opened the door and smiled at me. "Karina, this is our home."
I followed them into the villa. The living room was spacious and bright, with a dazzling crystal chandelier and floors polished so smoothly they reflected like mirrors—completely different from the small wooden house on the farm.
"Karina, you're finally back!" A clear voice called out as a girl in a pink dress hurried over, her face lit up with a sweet smile.
She looked about my age, fair-skinned with large, doll-like eyes, carrying the delicate air of someone spoiled.
"This is Elena, Elena Zimmerman," Diana Sullivan introduced. "The hospital mixed you up at birth; we've been raising her as you for seventeen years."
Elena reached out first, warmly grabbing my arm as she said:
"Karina, I've known about you for a long time. Mom and Dad have been searching for you all these years, and I've really been looking forward to meeting you."
Her hands were soft, and her smile genuine, but I couldn't help feeling a sudden twinge of caution.
After all, my coming back meant her life might be about to change.
"Karina, let me show you your room." Elena Zimmerman took my hand and led me upstairs.
"Mom and Dad specially prepared the biggest room for you—it's even bigger than mine. Inside, there's a desk and wardrobe you like, plus lots of new clothes."
I followed her upstairs; the hallway was thickly carpeted, and my footsteps made no sound.
Elena Zimmerman pushed open a door, revealing a spacious, bright room with pink wallpaper and a white desk.
The huge wardrobe was filled with all kinds of clothes, and brand-new designer shoes were neatly arranged on the shoe rack.
"Karina, all these shoes are brand new. If you like any, you can wear them all." Elena Zimmerman picked up a pair of white sneakers and handed them to me.
"These shoes were just bought yesterday and haven't been worn yet. I think they suit you perfectly."
I looked at the shoes she handed me, then at her sincere eyes. My guard softened slightly, but I still shook my head.
"No, thank you. I have my own shoes."
"Oh, Karina, just take them," Elena Zimmerman said, pressing the shoes into my hands. "We're sisters. There's no need to worry about yours or mine."
At that moment, Diana Sullivan entered carrying some fruit and smiled as she said, "Karina, Elena's right. From now on, you're sisters. You have to look out for each other."
She placed the fruit plate on the table and picked up a strawberry, offering it to me. "Karina, try this—these strawberries are imported, and they're especially sweet."
I took the strawberry and bit into it. It was indeed sweet, but I felt a little unsettled inside.
Over the next few days, I truly felt the favoritism from Richard Zimmerman and Diana Sullivan.
At meal times, Diana always gave me the biggest chicken drumstick, and Richard kept serving me dishes, asking if I had ever eaten these on the farm.
Elena Zimmerman sat quietly beside us, eating in silence. Whenever she tried to pick up a spare rib, Diana would quickly snatch it away and give it to me.
"Karina, eat more—you probably never had ribs this good on the farm."
Elena Zimmerman's chopsticks paused mid-air. The smile on her face faded slightly, a flicker of hurt in her eyes, but she quickly recovered and quietly continued eating.
I saw it and felt uneasy. I said to Diana Sullivan, "Mom, Elena wants to eat too. Please give her a piece."
Diana Sullivan waved her hand. "No need. Elena often eats like this at home. You're different—you haven't had anything good in all these years. You need to take good care of yourself."
Richard Zimmerman nodded in agreement, "Yes, Karina, you don't need to worry about her. Just focus on your meal."
I watched Elena Zimmerman lower her head, her long lashes hiding her eyes—I couldn't tell what she was thinking.
My guard went back up. Was she really that generous? Or was she pretending to be pitiful, waiting for me to slip up?
I wasn't sure, so I stayed cautious around her, unwilling to easily trust her gestures of kindness.
Day after day, Elena remained as warm to me as ever, always thinking of me when it came to the best things—but my suspicion grew deeper.
I've always felt she couldn't have accepted me so easily. After all, I took away seventeen years of her affection. Anyone in her place would feel upset.
That afternoon, Richard Zimmerman and Diana Sullivan were attending a banquet, leaving only Elena Zimmerman, a few servants, and me at home.
I was sitting on the living room sofa reading when Elena came over holding a glass of juice and handed it to me. "Karina, have some juice. It's freshly squeezed and very fresh."
I took the juice but didn't drink it. Instead, I looked up at her and asked, "Elena, do you really hate me?"
Elena Zimmerman froze for a moment; the smile on her face stiffened, and a flicker of panic flashed in her eyes, but she quickly regained her composure.
"Karina, why would you think that? Why would I hate you?"
"Because I came back and took your parents away, took your room, took everything that was originally yours," I said, looking into her eyes and speaking each word deliberately.
"Doesn't that hurt you inside?"
Elena's eyes reddened. She lowered her head, her voice tinged with a hint of grievance: "Karina, I know you might misunderstand, but I really don't hate you."
"I'm glad our parents found you, because you are their biological daughter—you were always meant to return to this family."
"As for the room and the belongings, none of that matters, as long as our family is happy together."
She spoke with heartfelt sincerity, tears nearly streaming down, but I still couldn't bring myself to believe her.
Just then, a servant approached carrying a pot of hot water, ready to pour us some tea.
As he reached us, Elena suddenly stood up and shoved me aside sharply. "Karina, watch out!"
I lost my balance, stumbled backward a few steps, and crashed into the sofa.
Just as I was pushed aside, the servant's kettle suddenly tipped, spilling scalding hot water onto Elena Zimmerman's arm.
"Ah!" Elena screamed, as a red patch instantly appeared on her arm, blistering in several places.
The servant's face turned pale with fear, and she hurriedly apologized, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to."
Elena bit her lip, tears streaming down, but still told the servant, "It's okay, I wasn't careful. It's not your fault."
I looked at the blisters on her arm, a wave of guilt washing over me. Could it really have been my fault?
She was truly concerned about me, yet I had been doubting her all along, seeing her as the bad one?
Just then, Richard Zimmerman and Diana Sullivan returned.
Seeing the injury on Elena's arm, Diana immediately rushed over and embraced her. "Elena, what happened? How did you get hurt?"
Elena cried, "Mom, it's nothing. I was careless; it has nothing to do with Karina."
But Diana looked at me with a look of reproach. "Karina, did you and Elena argue? Otherwise, how did she get hurt?"
I quickly explained, "No, Mom, it was the servant who accidentally spilled the water. Elena got burned because she was trying to save me."
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