?Chapter 88:


    “Maia Watson? The fake daughter from the Morgan family?” asked the woman, Kathie Marshall, her voice trembling with a strange mix of curiosity and disbelief.


    The words made Maia stiffen.


    Morgan had once been her name, but after prison, she had abandoned it for Watson. How could this woman have seen through her so easily?


    With a cautious nod, Maia responded, still unsettled, “Ma’am, how did you recognize me?”


    At those words, Kathie braced herself against the battered frame of the bed, struggling to sit upright. Maia rushed forward, reaching out to steady her before she could copse.


    “You… you really are her,” Kathie murmured, her voice cracking as fresh tears welled up in her eyes.


    A frown crept across Maia’s face, confusion knotting tighter inside her. “Ma’am… do you know who I am?”


    Kathie’s expression hovered somewhere between tears andughter. She waved excitedly to the boy standing behind Maia. “Ethan! She’s your sister!”


    What?!


    Shock widened Ethan’s eyes as he stared between them, speechless.


    Frozen, Maia struggled to grasp what Kathie was implying.


    Kathie wiped the tears from her cheeks and clutched Maia’s hand tightly before she slowly said, “Four years ago, my older brother and his wife were killed in a terrible ident when a truck struck them down. Not long after, the police showed up at our door and dropped a bombshell: their daughter, Rosanna, was not their biological child. Her real parents were from the Morgan family over in Wront. And the daughter the Morgans had back then… was actually theirs. That very same day, the Morgans sent someone to take Rosanna away. Just like that, they left Ethan behind with no one. My brother and his wife had always treated me well. So I took Ethan in. I sold everything of value we had to give my brother and his wife a proper burial, then I brought Ethan here. Ever since, it’s been just the two of us, trying to scrape by in this slum.”


    “Are you telling me… my biological parents have a son? And it’s… Ethan? He’s my biological brother?” Maia asked, struggling to believe it.


    Kathie gave a firm nod. Then a thought seemed to sh across her mind, and her eyes burned red with fury. “Rosanna — that ungrateful girl. For seventeen years, my brother and his wife raised her as their own. We never had much, but whatever we had, we gave. And now… she’s living the good life, while Ethan has suffered. It’s infuriating.”


    Find magical tales on gα?ησν????s?c????


    They gave to her without a second thought. They never once let her suffer. They skipped meals themselves just to ensure she had the right nutrition. They made sure she got an education. When she wanted extra sses outside of school, they juggled multiple jobs just to scrape together enough for her tuition. If they had not poured everyst penny into her future, they could have left this slum years ago. But what did she do? The moment Rosanna left, she never once looked back. Now she’s living the good life as the Morgan family’s treasured daughter, while Ethan, the boy who grew up with her for seventeen years, was left behind to rot.


    In the slums, survival was a daily battle, and most could barely find enough scraps to stay fed or warm. Compared to them, Rosanna’s situation had been almost privileged — her anemia wasn’t born of starvation but from self-imposed diets to keep herself slim. Despite their hardships, the Watson family had given her everything they could, yet she abandoned them without hesitation, not even bothering to show up for their funeral.


    Kathie grew more worked up as she continued, and before long, she was coughing uncontrobly. After a moment, she regained herposure and went on. “To lighten the family’s burden, Ethan dropped out of school right after elementary. In his heart, he always saw Rosanna as his true sister. He put her needs before his own in everything. But she never once returned — not even for a visit. Blood ties aside, do seventeen years of growing up together mean absolutely nothing?”


    The weight of those words mmed into Maia like a blow to the chest. Seventeen years. How could living side-by-side for so long mean absolutely nothing in the end?


    Back then, Maia hadn’t fully understood that kind of betrayal. But the Morgans had taught her — mercilessly, thoroughly. Being abandoned by the ones you loved wasn’t a clean wound. It was a slow, jagged tear through the soul, cutting deeper every time you dared to hope. Strangers could hurt you, yes, but it was family that left the deepest scars.


    .


    .


    .