"Emma, I'll be back in four days. You know what to do."
"And about studying abroad—you'll receive the admission results tonight."
Staring at the message on her phone, Emma Knapp felt dazed.
With trembling fingers, she typed a simple reply: "OK."
Almost instantly, another message popped up. "Remember your promise. Stay away from Mike and Jeff."
——
She didn't respond. The phone screen dimmed, but she remained motionless.
After a long silence, she scrolled back through their earlier conversations, stopping at the first money transfer—$180,000.
The price for pretending to be someone else for a month.
Now, Emilly Knapp is coming back.
And everything was about to end.
She absentmindedly grabbed a bottle of milk, sipping it as she leaned against the balcony railing. Her thoughts drifted back five years.
Back then, Emma had nothing.
A DNA test changed everything—it proved she was the real daughter of the Knapp family, the one who had been lost and raised elsewhere. The day she stepped into the Knapp family’s home was the same day Emilly was forced out.
Not long after, the Knapp family went bankrupt, leaving Emma buried in debt.
Until Emilly returned.
The Knapp, Ray, and Grey families had been close for years. Their daughters grew up together, inseparable. And he—Mike Ray—had admired her for as long as she could remember.
But Emilly wanted a different life. She had dreams of studying abroad, chasing a career.
Yet he couldn't bear to let go of the two girls who had shaped his childhood.
So, he found a way to keep them both. He paid Emma 200,000 a month to take Emilly’s place, ensuring that neither Mike nor Jeff Grey would ever forget her.
But once abroad, Emilly realized the world wasn’t what she had imagined.
And now that she was back, it meant only one thing—Emma had to leave.
She was lost in thought when a deep, groggy voice startled her.
"Who are you texting?"
Emma flinched, hurriedly locking her phone.
Mike and Jeff had returned, carrying shopping bags.
"No one," she said, forcing calm as she tucked the phone away.
But their sharp gazes lingered.
In unison, they asked, "What's that smell? Did you just drink milk?"
The scent clung to her, unmistakable.
Their expressions darkened.
"I..."
Before she could explain, Mike cut her off, his voice laced with irritation. "Emilly never drinks milk. Do it again, and you're out."
The coldness of his words pierced her.
With a wry smile, she simply nodded.
A moment later, they led her to the living room.
The sofa was buried under shopping bags, and on the dining table sat a lavish six-tiered cake.
Jeff nudged her toward a seat, then eagerly pulled Mike beside him. "Come on, let’s sing!"
The room buzzed with excitement. It should have been a happy moment.
But Emma felt nothing.
Her gaze landed on the cake.
"Happy Birthday, Emilly."
Not her.
Still, she forced a smile and picked up the knife.
She took a bite.
And immediately spat it out.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
Her sudden movement sent the candles toppling over, their flames flickering against the icing. The air filled with the sharp scent of burnt sugar.
Mike’s face twisted in anger.
"I'm allergic to peanuts."
The cake was covered in Emilly’s favorite peanut butter.
For Emma, it was poison.
She had learned that the hard way, as a child—one accidental bite, and her body had broken out in painful welts, her throat closing up. She had nearly died.
"Hold on!"
Panic replaced anger as Mike and Jeff scrambled for anti-allergy medication.
