The Winter I Found the Real Heiress

Everyone always said I didn't look like my parents. So I secretly took a DNA test, and the report confirmed the truth: I was indeed not their biological daughter. I delusionally burned the report, then secretly hired someone to find the real Davies family daughter. During my senior year's winter break, I finally found her. At the time, she was working as a server in a bar. 1. Ever since I learned I wasn't a Davies, my entire demeanor shifted. The once well-behaved, studious student started skipping classes and arguing with teachers. My grades plummeted at a visible speed, from average to the very bottom of the class. My parents didn’t know why, only assuming I was going through a rebellious phase. Every time the school called them in, we’d return home, and the four of us would sit in the living room, a family in bewildered distress. “Chloe,” my mother would say, her face stern, but her voice soft, laced with worry that she might truly upset me. “Tell me what’s going on. Why are you skipping classes?” I’d lower my head, not a shred of my classroom defiance remaining. Seeing my silence, my mother’s voice would gain a little more weight. “Chloe, skipping class is wrong.” I’d mumble in response, my voice weak. “I know.” I knew, but I’d still skip next time. My father would lower his newspaper, glance at my mother, then at me. “As long as you know you’re wrong, that’s what matters. Ready for dinner?” “Eat, eat, eat! Is that all you think about?” My mother’s tone with my father was sharper than with me. I couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. My brother, Ethan, noticed my smile. Fearing Mom would catch it and scold me again, he quickly stood up and pulled me. “Mom, you’ve lectured enough. Chloe and I are going to eat.” I followed him to the dining room obediently. A family intervention, ostensibly for my sake, thus ended. Back then, I was incredibly naive. The DNA test felt like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, a truth I simply couldn't accept. So I acted out, deliberately making trouble, using every tantrum as a twisted way to confirm my parents’ and brother’s love for me, over and over again. I completely refused to consider: what about the real Davies daughter? While I was brazenly occupying her parents and brother, casually basking in their love as if it were my inherent right, what kind of life was she living? Who was there to love her? I dared not think, yet couldn't help but wonder. Finally, I stopped running from it. I found old photos of my mother and father from their childhood. From my meager allowance, I set aside a portion to hire a private investigator, tasking him with secretly searching for the real Davies daughter. As for what I would do once he found her, I had no idea. 2. During the winter break of my senior year, the investigator finally called. He said he’d found her. He’d found the real Davies daughter. This time, the answer wasn’t the countless uncertainties of before. It was absolute certainty. My heart pounded violently, unsure if I felt joy or sorrow. I asked the investigator where he’d found her. He told me she was working as a server in a bar. She was my age. I woke up naturally every day, meeting friends to shop. And she was in a bar, earning what, to me, was mere pocket change. After hanging up, he sent me a photo of the real daughter. Even if it was just my imagination, the more I looked, the more she resembled my mother. After much deliberation, I finally made up my mind to go see her. As for what to do after seeing her… I’d figure that out later. After dinner, I called my best friend and also rounded up some of the tough, street-smart friends I’d made since my rebellious phase. We agreed on a place to meet up. My best friend, seeing Jax, the tattooed guy, visibly flinched and hid behind me. I patted her hand reassuringly, explaining that Jax was my friend, and his full-sleeve tattoo just looked a bit intimidating. I introduced my motley crew of friends to my best friend, explaining their colorful appearances. Only then did we head to the location the investigator had given me. Even after years of rebellion, I’d never been to a bar. In my mind, it wasn't a good place. We found a spot, awkwardly settling into a booth. Good thing I’d brought Jax and the others; they looked perfectly at home here, like seasoned regulars. But how was I supposed to meet the real daughter? That question truly stumped me. Drinks were quickly brought to our table. I carefully scanned the servers, but didn’t see the girl from the photo. I stood up, feigning a trip to the restroom, and began to wander through the bar. It was around seven in the evening, and the bar wasn’t too crowded yet. “One drink for a hundred bucks. Wanna go?” A man’s voice, thick with obvious intoxication, drifted towards me. I instinctively quickened my pace, trying to distance myself from the sound, but my gaze, as if compelled by some unseen force, drifted over. My eyes widened in shock. It was the girl from the photo. Summer, the real Davies daughter, she was right there! 3. The girl stared at the glass of liquor, her eyes etched with struggle and hesitation. Was she really going to drink that for a mere hundred dollars? Was she out of her mind?! By the time I came to my senses, I had already snatched the drink and splashed it across the man’s face. The man glared at me, his eyes blazing. “You little bitch! You dare to splash me?!” I instinctively grabbed the girl’s hand beside me, ready to flee. The man saw my intention and sneered, a cruel twist of his lips. “Stop them.” From somewhere, several burly men materialized, appearing behind us and blocking our escape. I inwardly cursed my impulsiveness. I should have tried to reason with the man, to buy some time. But what could I do? I simply couldn’t stand by and watch him use money to force someone to drink. Suddenly, the girl wrenched her hand free from mine, stepping in front of me, shielding me. “I don’t know her. Let her go.” The man swept all the glasses off the table, sending them crashing to the floor with a series of sharp, shattering sounds. “Go? I’d like to see either of you try to leave today!” I had completely lost my earlier bravado, trembling slightly at his menacing display. My gaze drifted to the thin, fragile shoulders shielding me, and a strange emotion flickered within me. If she knew who I was, would she regret stepping in to protect me today? I stood there, dazed, until a cry of pain erupted from behind me. A wave of relief washed over me: Jax and the others were here. Good thing I’d sent Jax a quick text earlier, telling him our location and to come over. Otherwise, the consequences would have been unimaginable. Thankfully, the men the drunkard hired were all bark and no bite. They were no match for Jax’s crew and were knocked out cold within a few moves. The tables quickly turned. Jax knelt beside me, his voice laced with concern, “Chloe, are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?” I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, he made to lunge at the man. I quickly grabbed his arm. “That’s enough. Stop hitting him.” If this escalated, it would surely reach my parents or Ethan. Deep down, I wasn't ready for them to meet the real daughter yet. The man, seeing his men defeated, pulled out his phone, clearly intending to call for more backup. My friends, who were closer, swiftly snatched the phone, twisting his arm behind his back. A man who looked like the bar manager appeared, his face grim. My heart sank. The situation had indeed blown up. 4. To my surprise, Jax gallantly stayed behind to handle the situation. He told his friends to send Summer and me out first. Stepping out of the bar, we finally escaped the deafening music and the stinging smell of stale alcohol. I took a deep breath of fresh, crisp air, feeling as though I could finally breathe again, as if I’d been reborn. Bars, I decided, were truly not good places. I should avoid them in the future. “Thank you for helping me,” the girl said, her voice soft and melodious, a pleasant sound next to my ear. I’d almost forgotten about her. I turned my head to look at her. She was wearing the bar’s standard black uniform dress, her head slightly bowed, a few strands of hair falling around her ears. “It’s nothing. But I probably messed up your job.” “It’s okay. I didn’t want to keep this job anyway.” With that, we exchanged smiles, a strange sense of understanding passing between us. Suddenly, being with her felt incredibly comfortable, easy. “How long have you worked here? Do you want me to come with you to quit?” “Today was my third day. It’s no trouble, I can go by myself.” I insisted on accompanying her to quit. She couldn’t argue with my stubbornness and eventually led me inside. When I saw the small, grateful curve of her lips as she clutched a few hundred dollars in cash, a gnawing sense of guilt began to creep into my chest. I hadn’t just occupied her parents’ and brother’s love; I had stolen her entire prosperous life, the life that should have been hers. If I were her, learning all this, I would surely hate myself to the bone. “Let me treat you to some late-night snacks.” She held up the crisp new bills in her hand, a genuine smile on her face. I was about to refuse when Jax and his crew emerged from the bar. “Chloe, we helped you out so much. Treating us to some late-night snacks isn’t too much to ask, is it?” It was Finn, the skinny guy next to Jax, who spoke. Jax immediately elbowed him, a sharp jab. “You’re certainly not shy, are you?” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Summer’s tension and apprehension. I quickly introduced my friends to her. “This is Jax, Finn, Leo…” The few men, hearing my introductions, looked utterly exasperated. In truth, I didn’t even know their real names. When you’re out on the streets, all that matters are catchy, easy-to-remember nicknames. Why bother with real names? Finn grumbled quietly, sounding disgruntled. “You completely ruined our first impression.” I rolled my eyes. “I recall your first impression was probably made inside the bar.” Their first impression, I thought, probably involved them breaking some bones. They had, after all, knocked the man’s burly friends out cold in just a few moves. “My name is Summer Peterson. Thank you all.” Summer Peterson. It was a beautiful name. “No problem, it was nothing,” Jax mumbled, scratching his head, a faint blush creeping up his neck. Big, tough guy, yet he still blushed around girls. I rolled my eyes, but held my tongue. “No need to thank them. Just thank me. Come on, let’s go get some late-night snacks.” Then, a motley procession of us marched towards a lively, no-frills eatery. Along the way, remembering my best friend whom I’d brought to the bar, I quickly asked Jax about her. If I’d known something like this would happen, I definitely wouldn’t have brought her. “Rocco took her home.” Rocco didn’t say much, but he was reliable. I nodded in relief. “Tell Rocco to come join us for snacks too.” We sat down, just enough to fill the round table comfortably. Mrs. Stone, the owner, approached with a wide smile, handing us two menus, and stood by, waiting for our order. Jax gallantly placed a menu in front of Summer and me. Seeing she didn't move, I took the menu and asked about her preferences. “Do you eat chives?” She nodded. “And gluten?” She nodded again. “Chicken wings?” She still nodded. I stopped asking her and simply ordered two portions of everything I thought tasted good. Then I let Jax and the others order. Summer clutched the crisp bills nervously in her hand. With just a glance, I understood her worry. “My treat. You keep the money you earned.” She was worried she didn’t have enough. “But you all helped me.” “Then you can treat us next time.” She no longer refused, neatly folding the money and tucking it into her pocket. “If you ask me, nothing beats a good cold beer. All those fancy drinks in the bar are overpriced and don’t even taste that great.” Jax guzzled his beer, his words becoming more boisterous with each swig. I placed some chives and gluten onto Summer’s plate, fearing she’d be too shy to take them herself. Then I heard her polite, repeated thanks, one after another. They never stopped. The more polite she was, the more a bitter ache swelled in my chest. Perhaps, I thought, I should tell her the truth at the right moment. To my parents, to Ethan, and to Summer. And then, I would face the reckoning, though delayed, that was bound to come. 5. They drank quite a bit of beer, but thankfully, they were still coherent. Jax insisted on taking Summer and me home. I suggested we drop Summer off first. So, the group headed towards Summer’s residence. My heart hammered against my ribs, a nervous rhythm. I wondered what her living situation was like. What kind of people were my biological parents? Probably not great, I thought, otherwise why would they make an eighteen-year-old Summer work in a bar to earn money? A pang of sadness tightened my chest. “We’re here,” Summer said softly. I looked up, then froze. Central High. She lived at school? As if sensing my confusion, she quietly explained: “I applied for cold-weather accommodation at the school.” So that was it. “Do you have a phone? Can we exchange contacts?” She shook her head. They didn’t even buy her a phone. That was truly outrageous. “But you can give me your number. I can remember it. When I earn enough money, I’ll treat you all to a meal.” She could remember it? I was a little shocked by her memory, momentarily speechless. Then she seemed to misunderstand, quickly making a promise. “I’ll definitely call you. If I don’t, you can come find me at school. My name is Summer Peterson, and the gate guard knows me too.” “That’s not what I meant,” I said, sighing. I helplessly recited my number to her. We watched her enter the school, and then the group finally dispersed. By the time I got home, it was past ten. Using the faint light filtering in from outside, I eased the door open, trying to be as quiet as a phantom. Then, the living room lights flickered to life with a sudden click. My parents and Ethan were all sitting in the living room, waiting, not yet asleep. 6. I slipped on my slippers, took a deep breath, and walked towards them. My mother’s arms were crossed, her voice cool and sharp. “Where have you been? You actually remembered to come home!” I sneaked a glance at my father and Ethan. My father cleared his throat, but his gaze immediately darted away when it met mine. Ethan adjusted his spectacles, his eyes darting nervously around the room. Clearly, both of them were here to be mere props, leaving me to face the music. I could only stand rigidly, staring at the leg of the sofa, and ad-libbed. “My best friend and I went for a walk. We lost track of time, so we played a bit late.” My voice faded to a whisper by the end. “What’s that smell?” My mother sniffed the air, then her voice suddenly gained volume, a note of accusation. “Alcohol! Chloe Davies, you actually went drinking!” After spending so long in the cold night air, there was still a smell of alcohol? I instinctively raised my sleeve and sniffed. It must have been wine that had accidentally splashed onto my clothes. I hung my head in annoyance. To my mother, this was as good as an admission of guilt. Immediately, she rose to her feet in a huff, raising her hand as if to strike me. My father quickly stood up too, reaching out to block my mother. “Let’s talk this out, dear. Don’t lay hands on the child.” Ethan stepped in front of me, shielding me. “Mom, don’t hit Chloe.” My mother’s eyes suddenly welled up with tears. “You two, father and son, always protect her. Just let me die from anger, why don’t you?!” With that, she sank back onto the sofa, turning her head away, unwilling to spare me another glance. My father and Ethan kept shooting me meaningful glances, and I nodded, understanding their silent plea. “Mom, I promise I didn’t drink a single drop of alcohol. It just accidentally got on my clothes.” I moved to sit on the left side of the sofa, but my mother immediately spun around, facing right, her back to me. “Mom, I swear, I really didn’t drink. If I drank tonight, then may I be struck by lightning—” Before I could finish the oath, my mother quickly spun around, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Alright, alright, Mom believes you.” I happily leaned closer, but she quickly pulled away. “You reek of it! Go take a shower. If you come home this late again, I’m locking the door, and you can spend the night outside.” Crisis averted. “Okay, I’m going to shower now. Goodnight, Mom, Dad, Ethan!” As I passed the second-floor landing, my shoulders suddenly slumped. The image of my mother’s tear-reddened eyes lingered in my mind, an inescapable image. I thought, Summer would never upset Mom like that. She was polite, she knew how to show gratitude. She was so good, much better than me. A bitter ache swelled in my throat, but I swallowed it down. A selfish thief who stole someone else’s happiness, what right did I have to feel wronged? Lying in bed, I drifted into a fitful sleep, plagued by one nightmare after another. In my dreams, Summer and my parents reunited, a picture of perfect family bliss. In my dreams, Ethan screamed at me, accusing me of stealing Summer’s life. In my dreams, I was cast out of the Davies home, a stranger in their midst. In my dreams, my biological parents forced me to work as a bar server, just to earn money. …

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