“You’ve stayed in the orphanage for eight years and are still this stubborn. It seems that even if Phoebe has been spoiled by your father and me, you still won’t let her push you around.”
But soon, her smile disappeared, and her tone grew cold and warning.
“Phoebe is sensitive by nature. When you come home, you must never mention who’s real and who’s not. You’re both my daughters.”
“From now on, you’ll be her older sister. You must take care of her and never let anyone bully her. In my heart, you’re both just as important.”
Listening to her biased words that could fill an ocean, I finally remembered who she was: Claudia Romero, my biological mother.
After eight years apart, she felt like nothing more than a stranger to me, and a stranger’s words meant nothing to my heart.
“Mrs. Romero, when you left me at the orphanage, did you ever think that I might have already found a new family?”
I was healthy, so it was natural for the orphanage to help me find an adoptive home.
Claudia stepped forward, reaching out to touch my head, but I moved away from her hand.
“I told the director you were only placed here for a while, that you had real parents. Who would ever adopt you?”