When my biological parents finally tracked me down, I had already joined the neighborhood aunties' line-dancing squad at the local community center. They stared at me—dressed in a bedazzled, loud floral knit set—with expressions of pure, unadulterated disgust. 01 "Are you... Maya? This outfit..." The well-dressed woman before me hesitated, her gaze raking over my "Blooming Florals" knit tracksuit. Ignoring the flicker of disdain in her eyes, I dropped the heavy bag of rice and the gallon of cooking oil I was lugging on my shoulder. I pulled a scratched thermos from my shopping bag. I took a slow sip of tea before looking at the group. "So, you’re the biological parents?" Mr. Sterling frowned but eventually nodded. "We are." "And who’s she?" I looked at the fragile-looking girl standing behind them. Her eyes welled up instantly. The two men flanking her—one older, one younger—immediately stepped in front of her like human shields. "Don't you dare bully Serena," the younger one snapped, his impulsiveness getting the better of him. I looked at her face. We shared about sixty percent of the same features. Then I looked at the way the Sterling family reacted to his outburst. This family was going to be interesting. I leaned back against my dilapidated sofa and watched them like a spectator at a play. Perhaps realizing his tone was inappropriate, the older brother explained, "We know you’ve suffered these past years, but none of this was Serena's fault. She’s innocent..." Before he could finish, the door to my cramped apartment was shoved open. A mob of neighborhood aunties, all wearing the same bedazzled floral tracksuits as me, swarmed my biological parents. They started shouting over one another, airing my grievances: "So you’re Maya’s real parents?" "What took you so long? Do you have any idea what this girl has been through?" "Let me tell you, that foster mother of hers was a monster! You see those heavy wooden laundry rollers? That woman would beat her with them for no reason!" "Exactly! Half the time she wasn't even allowed to eat. In the dead of winter, that woman purposely shredded Maya’s school jacket and made her go to class in a torn T-shirt! During her SATs, she locked her in a room so she couldn't take the test!" "We always knew no real mother could be that cruel. Turns out she wasn't the real one!" "You better have that woman arrested. And that fake daughter of yours? You better check her, too. I bet she knew her mother swapped the babies on purpose..." "Wait, who's crying?" Auntie Sarah, the leader of the squad, froze. The group of women looked around for the source of the sobbing, finally landing on the girl in white. "I'm... I'm so sorry," the girl sobbed, her shoulders shaking. "I didn't mean to steal your life. I..." "And who might this be?" Auntie Sarah narrowed her eyes, making a 'shushing' gesture to the group. I nodded. "That’s Martha’s biological daughter. Serena Sterling." 02 "Maya, Martha is Martha. What she did has nothing to do with Serena." My "big brother," Marcus Sterling, spoke up. The rest of the family nodded in agreement. But these were the South Side Line-Dancing Aunties. They had seen every trick in the book. A few looks exchanged between them, and they had the whole situation pegged. Before the Sterlings could say another word, Auntie Bev—who hadn't even pampered her own son this much—cut them off. "Oh, please. Give me a break." "Whether she’s 'innocent' is one thing, but her crying like this? What is Maya supposed to do? Comfort the girl who’s been living her life?" Bev reached out and yanked up my sleeve, exposing the jagged scars on the back of my hand. "Look at this. Her 'mother' did this with a red-hot set of fireplace tongs." "Then look at this girl. Dressed in designer labels, skin as soft as silk." "And you want Maya to apologize to her? To comfort her? Does that sound right to you?" Bev turned her glare toward Serena. "Listen, kid. Maybe you can't be blamed for what your mother did, but Maya lived through hell for eighteen years because of it! Have some decency. Stop the crocodile tears. You’re just stabbing Maya in the heart." With that, Bev wiped a stray tear with her sleeve and pulled me into a hug. "My poor, silly girl. You always keep everything inside. No one loved you before, but now that your real parents are here, surely they won't be biased against you, right? These are your parents. If you’ve been wronged, you speak up!" "Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, am I right?" The squad’s eyes were all locked on the Sterling parents. They smiled awkwardly. "Yes. Of course. Maya, tell us if anything is bothering you." Serena, choked into silence by Bev’s bluntness, could only stare at the family with wide, red eyes, biting her lip. 03 Before I got into the Sterlings' car, Bev shoved a shopping bag into my arms. She said it was the new "team uniform." Inside was a high-end, trendy athletic set. I knew the aunties were worried I’d have nothing "classy" to wear at the Sterling estate, so they had pooled their money to buy it for me. I whispered a thank you and handed over the discounted eggs I’d fought for at the supermarket earlier. I locked up my new oil and rice. Marcus reminded me I didn't need to lock them up—I wasn't coming back. I tilted my head, glanced at the parents and the younger brother who were currently whispering comforts to Serena, and smiled at Marcus without saying a word. Marcus looked back, unable to help himself. "Maya, Serena didn't do it on purpose. She feels truly guilty. She’s cried about this multiple times at home..." "Sure, sure. Whatever you say." I brushed him off, clutched my new clothes and my backpack, and slid into the car. During the drive, I looked at my phone. The family looked at me. Auntie Sarah sent $500 to the group chat: [A little something from the squad. Don't you dare refuse it!] Bev messaged me privately: [Maya, if it’s not comfortable over there, just come home.] The others echoed her. We lived in a rough neighborhood. Most of these women were retired on tiny pensions. Bev and Mrs. Higgins still worked stalls at the flea market to make ends meet. Every cent they had spent on me over the years was money they had saved by skipping meals. They were sending me this money now because they saw my "real" parents were biased. They were terrified I’d be mistreated in that mansion. "Maya, that outfit..." Eleanor Sterling, my mother, looked at my bedazzled tracksuit with a furrowed brow. She finally couldn't help herself. "From now on, you are a Sterling. Your clothes and behavior must be appropriate." "And at your age, you should be making friends your own age. Expand your horizons, socialize. Don't spend all your time with... those community center ladies." "Serena can help you with that. It’ll be a good way for you two to bond." Eleanor spoke with such "sincerity" that Serena immediately played along. She reached for my hand, her intimacy making my skin crawl. "Mom’s right. I’ll teach you everything, Maya." "Sister, when we get home, I’ll pick out some things from my closet for you. As for what you’re wearing... we’ll just have the maid throw it out." "Exactly," said Leo, the younger brother. "I don't even know what that trashy set is. It’s hideous. If you keep dressing like that, don't tell people you're a Sterling. It’s embarrassing." I paused my typing—I was in the middle of thanking my dear aunties—and looked at them with a bright smile. "Do you know why I always wear these 'auntie' clothes?" 04 "Because her mother—Martha—shredded every piece of clothing I owned to keep me from going to school. Not just that, but when the neighbors felt bad and gave me hand-me-downs, she burned them or cut them up." "Eventually, those 'trashy' ladies you look down on found a way. They recruited me to help with their dance squad. They told Martha that the clothes I wore were team property—the squad's assets. They told her if she destroyed them, she’d have to pay the community center back. That was the only way I was allowed to leave the house looking like a human being." "By the way, Serena, do you know why your mother didn't want me going to school?" I stared directly into Serena’s eyes. "It was because of that regional academic competition in eighth grade. She realized we were assigned to the same testing center. She realized that if I kept going, someone might eventually see us together and notice the resemblance." "Oh, and one more thing. The aunties were too polite to say it earlier. Do you know what Martha did on the day of the SATs? She locked me in my room." "She let a local creep into the house. She told me she’d sold me to him for three hundred dollars so he could 'make me his wife'..." "Stop! Stop talking!" Eleanor went pale, clutching her chest as if she couldn't breathe. The rest of the Sterling men looked sick, unable to meet my eyes. "Heh." I let out a sharp laugh, ignoring their discomfort. "So, you should actually be thanking those aunties. If they hadn't broken down the door, dragged me out, and personally driven me to the exam site, I’d either be dead or I’d be the mother of three kids in some shack in the woods by now." The car went deathly silent. I curled my lips into a smirk, leaned back against the leather seat, and closed my eyes to rest. Maybe my little story was too much for them. As soon as we reached the Sterling estate, the parents made excuses about work and fled the scene. Serena and Leo also couldn't handle my gaze and scurried upstairs. Only Marcus remained to lead me to my room—a converted guest bedroom on the first floor. I watched Serena and Leo run up to the second floor, then looked at Marcus and smiled. Marcus looked awkward. "This is just temporary. I’ll have the contractors renovate the spare room on the second floor. You can move up there once it’s done." I just kept smiling. His face darkened. "Maya, we know you’ve been through a lot, but that’s in the past. Mom, Dad, and I are going to make it up to you. There’s no need to cling to the past and make everyone uncomfortable." "Is it uncomfortable?" I asked, walking around the room. "Didn't you see Mom and Dad's faces?" His tone was accusatory. "And Serena. How do you think she feels, hearing those things while trying to live in this house..." I saw a heavy, long decorative brass statue on the nightstand. My eyes lit up. I grabbed it and swung it with everything I had, slamming it into Marcus’s shoulder. Marcus grunted in pain, clutching his arm and glaring at me. "Are you insane?!" I weighed the statue in my hand and grinned. "Does it hurt?" "What do you think?!" He looked at me like I was a maniac. "Maya, apologize to me right now!" "But that hit happened in the past," I said, mimicking his tone perfectly. "And compared to what I’ve endured over the years, that little tap was nothing. Why are you clinging to what just happened? Why are you trying to make me feel uncomfortable, Brother?" Marcus choked on his words. I just waved him away and slammed the door. "Bye-bye, Brother." 05 At dinner, perhaps out of a sense of guilt, my mother specifically asked what I liked and had the cook prepare a feast. When she saw me eating without a fuss, the tension on her face eased slightly. "Maya, you’re a Sterling now. Tomorrow, I’ll have my lawyer take you to change your legal name," my father said. I looked around the table, my gaze lingering for a second on Serena’s puffy eyelids. "And what about her? Is she changing her name back to Miller?" The parents froze. Serena’s expression faltered. She bit her lip. "If Maya really dislikes me that much, I can move out." She looked at my parents with eyes full of tears. "Maya, don't be a bitch!" Leo shouted, jumping to his feet. "I just asked if she was changing her name to her biological mother's name," I said, glancing at Leo with indifference. Hearing that I didn't explicitly demand she move out, the parents visibly relaxed. I couldn't help but laugh at their reaction. "But since she brought it up." "Let's go with her plan. Have her move out. She’s right—I really don't like her." "Maya!" Leo glared at me. "How can you be so vicious? Serena even offered to give you her bedroom! She’s doing everything to accommodate you, and you just keep attacking her!" "It’s okay, Leo. I know she hates me. I should give everything back to her anyway," Serena sobbed quietly. "Maya..." Eleanor looked at me, torn. I didn't say a word. I simply pulled a photo from my pocket—one I’d prepared long ago—and tossed it onto the table. The family stared at the face in the photo, then instinctively looked at Serena. Serena looked exactly like her biological mother, Martha. "Now do you understand why I don't like her?" I rolled up my sleeves, resting my chin on my hands, exposing the criss-crossing scars on my forearms for the whole table to see. My parents had seen the scars on my hands, but they hadn't seen the rest. I turned my arm over, showing them the words Martha had carved into my skin with a knife: BITCH DOG. The Sterlings finally went silent. 06 I happily helped myself to two large pieces of steak. Serena, stuck in limbo, looked at the Sterlings for help. Marcus finally let out a sigh, attempting to "reason" with me. "Maya, we know it's been hard. But Serena grew up with us. She's family. We aren't going to just throw her out. We hope you won't take your anger toward... that woman out on her. You need to learn to get along." I put my fork down. I didn't address Marcus. I looked at Serena with a mocking smile. "What about you? Do you want to get along with me?" Serena blinked, immediately putting on her tragic, misunderstood mask. "Sister, even though I know you hate me, I’ve wanted to be your friend from the very beginning." "So, you never actually intended to leave the Sterlings, did you?" I said. "In that case, why do you keep offering to move out? Just to make me look like the villain?" Panic flashed in Serena’s eyes. "I didn't... that’s not..." I didn't stay for the rest of her performance. I stood up and said, "I'm done," and started walking toward the stairs. Leo realized what I was doing and blocked me. "Where do you think you're going?" "Serena offered me her room, didn't she? I’m accepting the offer." I narrowed my eyes, giving them a pleasant, terrifying smile. "That wasn't a lie, was it? You weren't just saying that to mock me because I was put in the guest room, were you?" Serena stammered, "No... no, I really wanted to give it to you, it’s just..." "Good." I looked at the housekeeper. "Mrs. Gable, please move Serena’s things to the guest room immediately. If I have to do it myself and things go missing, I won't be held responsible." Mrs. Gable looked at my parents, unsure. "What? Serena agreed to it. Does anyone have an objection? Or do you think I don't deserve it?" I asked. "No, Maya. Don't overthink it," my father told Mrs. Gable. "Do as she says." "Dad..." Serena looked at him, her world crumbling. My father guiltily looked away. He told Marcus to speed up the renovations on the other upstairs room. They hadn't been in a rush to renovate a room for me before I got back. Now that Serena was displaced, they were frantic. How poetic. But even more poetic was the flash of pure venom in Serena’s eyes. She was finally losing her cool. Good. That looked much more like the girl who had "accidentally" dialed the wrong number and vented to a "stranger" (Martha), subtly hinting that Martha needed to keep me away from my real family. 07 I first found out about the swap on the day Martha’s nephew got into a decent college. Martha had gotten blackout drunk. She spent the whole night laughing and bragging. She talked about how her parents had always favored her brother. To pay for his house, they had sold her to an old cripple for thirty thousand dollars. After the cripple died, they stole her insurance payout to give to their grandson. "But look at me now. Their precious grandson worked himself to death and only got into a state school. My daughter? She’s a princess. She’ll always be a princess." "As long as this jinx is out of the way! Yes, as long as you're gone." She had tried to find a stick to beat me with, but she was too drunk to stand. Usually, Martha was a quiet drunk. But that night, she kept rambling about how her "princess" was living the high life with my parents, and how her princess was cleverly guiding her to keep me far away from the Sterlings. The aunties from the community center heard everything. They took me to the police station immediately. Afraid of what Martha might do next, they pooled their money to buy me a burner phone. But by the time we got back from the station, Martha had vanished. ... Serena’s things were moved out. I had to admit, she had a lot of stuff. Her clothes and jewelry alone filled two guest rooms. Compared to her, my single backpack and shopping bag looked pathetic. Eleanor Sterling stood in the middle of the empty, massive master suite, watching me hang my two outfits in a walk-in closet the size of a bedroom. The annoyance she’d felt over me "stealing" Serena's room turned into sharp guilt. "Maya..." she began. I ignored her, putting on my cheap Bluetooth headphones and FaceTimeing the aunties to check in on their line-dancing progress. She stood there, hovering, before turning to leave. I turned my head. "Mom." She looked at me, eyes instantly filling with tears. It was the first time I’d called her that. "Maya." She rushed over and grabbed my hand. "Maya, I’m so sorry. I’ll make everything up to you. I promise you’ll never be hurt again." For a second, my heart actually twinged. "If I told you Serena and Martha have been in contact this whole time, would you believe me?" I asked. The silence was deafening. The tears stayed in her eyes, but the emotion vanished. Just as I thought. From the first moment I saw how they looked at Serena, I knew. "Even if you don't believe me, will you investigate it?" "Maya... that’s... that’s impossible," she stammered. I smiled—the same flat, indifferent smile I always wore. "Fine. I get it." I pushed her gently toward the door. "I need to rest, Mrs. Sterling." I shut the door. And I shut the door to my heart, too. I pulled out my phone and messaged a contact: [Let’s do it.] If the Sterlings wouldn't give me justice, I’d take it myself.
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