Chapter 1

My whole life was a joke, and I was the last one to get the punchline.

It ended at my brother Alex' s graduation party. I stood in the corner of the crowded hall, my heart full. I had raised him. After our parents died in that car crash fifteen years ago, it was just me and him.

I was eighteen then. I gave up my college acceptance, my scholarship, my dream of being an artist. I worked three jobs-waitressing, cleaning offices, stocking shelves at a 24-hour grocery store. Every dollar went to Alex.

I made sure he had the best tutors, the best clothes, the best everything. I ate instant noodles so he could have steak. I wore shoes with holes in them so he could have brand-name sneakers.

And he did it. He graduated at the top of his class with a full scholarship to an Ivy League law school.

Tonight, he was the star. Everyone clapped for him. He stood on the stage, handsome and confident in his suit. He thanked his professors, his friends, and then he looked at me.

"And most of all," he said, his voice ringing through the microphone, "I want to thank my sister, Sarah. I wouldn' t be here without you."

Tears streamed down my face. It was all worth it. The sacrifice, the exhaustion, the lonely years. It was all for this moment.

The party was winding down when the main doors of the hall swung open. A man and a woman walked in. They looked rich. The man wore a tailored suit, the woman a shimmering dress and a pearl necklace. They looked out of place.

But they also looked familiar. Painfully familiar.

My breath caught in my throat. It was them. My parents. David and Mary Miller.

They weren't dead. They were standing right there, looking older, healthier, and wealthier than I ever remembered.

My mind went blank. I couldn' t process it. They died. I saw the caskets. I went to the funeral.

With them was a young woman about my age. She was beautiful, dressed in designer clothes, and she held my mother' s arm with an air of entitlement.

Alex saw them too. He froze.

My father, David, smiled. It wasn' t a warm smile. It was the smile of a predator.

"Alex, my boy," he boomed, walking towards the stage. "You' ve done well. So very well."

I started walking towards them, my legs shaking. "Mom? Dad?"

My voice was a whisper. They turned to look at me. My mother, Mary, wrinkled her nose. Her eyes were cold, filled with a disgust that hit me like a physical blow.

"Who is this?" the young woman with them asked, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Just the help, Jessica," my mother said, not taking her eyes off me. "Her job is done now."

I stopped. The blood drained from my face. "What are you talking about? It' s me, Sarah."

My father laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "Sarah? We know who you are. You were a good little worker bee, weren' t you? Taking care of our son for all these years. We appreciate it."

The world started to spin. "Our son? I' m your daughter."

"Our daughter?" My mother let out a short, cruel laugh. "Our daughter is Jessica. The one who grew up with everything she ever wanted. The one who had the life you were supposed to have."

She gestured to the girl, Jessica.

"You," my father said, pointing a finger at me, "are the mayor' s kid. We swapped you at the hospital. Best deal we ever made."

The truth crashed down on me, shattering the foundation of my entire life. The love I thought I had, the family I sacrificed everything for-it was all a lie. I wasn' t their daughter. I was just a tool. A placeholder. A free babysitter for their real son, Alex.

"Why?" I choked out.

"We were in debt," Mary said, as if explaining something simple to a child. "Big trouble. Faking our deaths was the only way out. We left you with Alex because we knew you were a responsible little fool. You' d raise him for us, and once he was successful, we' d come back. A brilliant son is a great asset, you see."

Her words were venom. I looked at Alex, my brother, the boy I had raised. He stood there, silent. He looked from our parents to me, and his face was unreadable.

"And now," David said, his voice dropping, "your purpose is served. You' re an inconvenience. A loose end."

He took a step towards me. I backed away, my heart pounding with pure terror. I looked at Alex, pleading with my eyes.

"Alex, please," I begged.

He looked at me. There was no love, no loyalty. Just a cold calculation. He saw the wealthy parents, the beautiful sister. He saw a life of privilege waiting for him. He turned his head and looked away.

That was my death sentence.

David grabbed me. His hands were strong. He pushed me towards a side door, out into the dark alley behind the hall. Mary and Jessica followed, their faces twisted with malice.

I fought. I screamed. But no one came.

The last thing I saw was Alex, standing in the doorway, watching. He didn' t lift a finger. He just watched as the family I thought was mine snuffed out my life in a cold, dark alley.

Then, there was only darkness.

Until I opened my eyes again.

The air smelled of cheap lilies and stale grief. I was in my old bedroom, in the house I sold years ago. A black dress was laid out on my bed.

I looked at my hands. They were the hands of an eighteen-year-old. Smooth, unscarred, not the hands of a woman who had worked herself to the bone for fifteen years.

A ragged sob escaped my throat. I stumbled to the calendar on the wall.

The date was circled in black.

It was the day of my parents' fake funeral.

I was back.

And this time, I wouldn' t be the fool.