Chapter 1

The air in the grand hall was electric, thick with the smell of champagne and success. Flashing lights from cameras bounced off the crystal glasses and the gleam in everyone' s eyes. Tonight was the night my son, Liam, took his tech company public. Eighteen years of my life, my sacrifice, had led to this moment.

I stood in the crowd, my heart swelling with a pride so fierce it almost hurt. I wasn't wearing a designer gown or dripping with jewels like the other women. My dress was simple, bought on sale, but it was the nicest thing I owned. For years, every spare dollar went to Liam's education, his coding camps, his first servers. My art, my own dreams, were packed away in a dusty corner of the garage, forgotten.

Liam stood on the stage, a tailored suit making him look older than his eighteen years. He was handsome, confident, a star.

"I owe my success to many people," he said into the microphone, his voice smooth and clear. "But there are two people, in particular, I need to thank tonight. They taught me the true meaning of ambition and what it takes to get what you want."

I smiled, my eyes welling up with tears. This was it. My recognition. All the lonely nights, the canceled dates, the jobs I worked to the point of exhaustion-it was all worth it.

Then, the main doors of the hall swung open.

A woman glided in, stunning in a red dress that seemed to burn in the bright lights. Beside her was a man in a sleek, expensive suit. My breath caught in my throat. My blood ran cold.

It was Olivia. My best friend. The woman who had died on a hospital bed eighteen years ago, right after giving birth.

And the man beside her was Mark, my ex-fiancé. The man who had left me weeks before our wedding, telling me he couldn't handle the burden of me raising my dead friend's child.

They walked toward the stage as if they owned the place, a confident smirk on Olivia's perfect face. The crowd parted for them, murmuring in confusion.

Liam' s smile widened. He gestured towards them.

"Please welcome my mother, Olivia Hayes, and her husband, Mark Johnson!"

The name hit me like a physical blow. My mother.

I watched, frozen, as Olivia ascended the stage and embraced Liam. Mark clapped him on the shoulder, a proprietary look in his eyes.

"What is this?" I whispered to no one. My mind couldn't process it. Olivia was dead. I held her hand as it went limp. I saw the sheets pulled over her face.

Olivia took the microphone from Liam. Her voice, a sound I had only heard in my memories, filled the hall.

"Thank you all for coming. It' s so wonderful to finally step out of the shadows and claim my wonderful son."

She looked directly at me then, her eyes cold and triumphant.

"Some of you may know Susan Miller," she said, pointing me out in the crowd. The cameras swiveled, their flashes blinding me. "My dear, dear friend. Eighteen years ago, Mark and I had a little problem. An unexpected pregnancy. It wasn't the right time for us, you see. My father would have been furious. So, we designed a little test."

A sick feeling churned in my stomach.

"A test of loyalty. A test of generosity," she continued, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "We wanted to see if my best friend, Susan, was truly as selfless as she claimed. So, we faked my death. We gave her our son to raise, to see if she would sacrifice everything for him. And she did!"

Laughter rippled through the audience, a mix of shock and amusement. They thought it was some bizarre, elaborate joke.

"She gave up her silly little art career. She gave up her social life. She even gave up her fiancé," Olivia said, trailing a hand down Mark' s arm. "And she raised our Liam into this incredible young man. We are so, so grateful."

Mark stepped up. "We provided for his education anonymously, of course. We couldn't let Susan fail the test completely. But now, the test is over. It' s time for our son to come home, to his real family."

My eyes darted to Liam. He was standing between them, beaming. He looked from Olivia to Mark, then his gaze fell on me. There was no warmth. No love. Only a cool, dismissive pity.

"Mom?" I choked out the word. It felt foreign in my mouth.

He looked at me, his expression unchanged. "Thank you for everything, Susan. You were a great nanny. But it' s time for me to be with my real parents."

Nanny.

The word echoed in the sudden silence of my mind. Eighteen years of lullabies, of scraped knees, of homework help, of cheering from the sidelines. Eighteen years of being 'Mom.' All of it, reduced to a job title.

The floor tilted beneath my feet. The triumphant music, the flashing lights, the smug faces of Olivia and Mark, the cold eyes of the boy I had loved more than my own life-it all swirled into a vortex of unbearable pain.

My heart didn't just break. It felt like it was being ripped out of my chest, torn to shreds before my eyes.

The betrayal was so absolute, so profound, it stole the air from my lungs.

My legs gave out.

As I collapsed to the floor, the last thing I saw was Olivia' s triumphant smirk.

Then, darkness.

And then, a sharp, antiseptic smell. The beeping of a machine. A dull ache spreading through my body.

I opened my eyes. Not to the cold floor of the event hall, but to the harsh fluorescent lights of a hospital room.

I was back.

Back on the day Olivia gave birth. The day my life was stolen from me.