Chapter 3

That night, while I was in bed with a face mask on, reading a book, my best friend, Sarah, called me in a panic.

"Jane! How can you be doing skincare right now? Turn on the TV, quick!"

"Chloe is on the news! She's crying on camera with her biological parents! God, anyone watching would think you kept her in a basement!"

Intrigued, I turned on the TV.

Sure enough, the screen showed Chloe hugging her chubby, middle-aged biological father. She was blinking rapidly, trying to squeeze out a few tears for the camera.

"All these years away from my parents, I never gave up hope. I searched everywhere, trying every channel to find them."

"And finally, heaven answered my prayers. I'm back where I belong!"

The reporter eagerly held out the microphone:

"Miss Sterling, today is such a historic day for your family. Why isn't your adoptive mother here?"

"Is there tension between you? How does she feel about you finding your real family?"

Chloe lied without blinking:

"I don't have an adoptive father, just a very ordinary adoptive mother."

"She's never seen such a grand lifestyle, so she was too embarrassed to show her face today. I think she feels guilty for not being able to provide for me all these years."

"But I don't blame her. In fact, I'm grateful to her."

My mouth twitched. Chloe’s words sounded polite, but they were actually a nasty dig, painting me as a poor, low-class woman who was too intimidated to step into high society.

It was a clever play to make herself look elegant, mature, and forgiving.

As Sarah ranted in my ear, my eyes remained glued to the interaction between Chloe and her parents.

Her parents didn't look like they had just found their long-lost daughter. Instead, they kept pushing her toward the cameras, making sure the lenses were focused on her pretty face. It felt like they were showing off a high-quality product rather than a child.

But Chloe, blinded by her sudden wealth, didn't notice anything wrong. She smiled and played along perfectly, her smile looking more like a brown-nosing employee trying to please her bosses rather than a girl reuniting with her parents.

Her father even bragged to the reporters:

"My daughter is only a teenager. She is young, fresh, beautiful, and attends an elite private school!"

The phrasing made my skin crawl. What kind of father describes his own daughter as "fresh"?

And if they loved her so much, why didn't they even get her age right?

A flash of awkwardness crossed Chloe's face, but she quickly covered it up with a laugh:

"My parents are just too excited. They're even getting my age mixed up! I think I'll have to punish them by making them go jogging with me tonight!"

She reached out to grab her mother's hand, trying to lean her head on her shoulder.

But Eleanor, her mother, instinctively stepped back, pulling her hand away.

For a second, both of their expressions stiffened.

Though Eleanor quickly recovered and claimed she just wasn't used to public displays of affection, it was obvious to anyone paying attention that there was zero bond between them.

After the interview aired, a wave of online hate was directed at me. Netizens called me an irresponsible, neglectful adoptive mother, while praising Chloe for being sweet and beautiful.

I didn't care. Because I knew Chloe's golden days were already numbered.