He Return of the Discarded Heiress

The D.C. summer hit like a weapon. Late June and the heat was already a living thing, rising off the asphalt in shimmering waves that emptied the streets and made the air itself feel thick.

Ainsley dragged her suitcase down the stairs. One bag. Sixteen years.

She didn't need to see the living room to hear Katharina's voice-pitched in that perfect blend of curiosity and petty malice that had become her signature.

"Mom? Dad? Are Ainsley's *birth parents* actually coming to get her?"

Preston's response was sharp, distracted. "What business is that of yours? Have you practiced the piece for the recital? Your grandmother's friend will be here soon-Professor Debi Wong. Guest lecturer at Juilliard. Most respected art critic in the country. You perform well, and with your grandmother's recommendation, your spot is secure."

"I've been practicing, Daddy."

A pause. Then, with a theatrical sigh clearly meant to carry, Katharina pressed on. "Dad... what do you think they even *look* like? Her real parents?"

She didn't wait for an answer. Her voice dropped into a conspiratorial, mocking whisper that still managed to fill the room. "They said they were coming two days ago and they're just getting here *now*. You think they bought train tickets? Like, spent two days on a slow train from some backwoods village just to pick her up?"

Ainsley's foot paused on the stairs. Just for a heartbeat. A flicker of cold amusement cut through her dark eyes.

Three months ago, she'd walked in on Kade Miller getting a little too close to her dear *sister* Katharina. When she called them out, the truth that emerged was far uglier than a simple breakup.

She wasn't a Thomas. She never had been. She was adopted. A contingency plan.

Katharina had been born with a rare blood disorder. The Thomases had money-Preston had taken the company public the year before-but money couldn't manufacture the specific, rare blood type their precious daughter needed. So they'd found a solution: adopt a child with the right blood. A living, breathing blood bank.

Ainsley.

Her whole life, she'd been groomed to be the perfect, obedient older sister. Pretty clothes went to Katharina. Awards went to Katharina. Opportunities went to Katharina. She'd been a silent participant, believing in family.

Kade and Katharina's betrayal had just been the trigger. The explosion unearthed the foundation.

They'd only told her the truth now because Katharina was stable. Years of treatment had finally paid off-with proper care, she no longer needed monthly transfusions. Ainsley's utility was used up. And after she'd embarrassed Katharina at her birthday party by exposing the affair, the family had decided it was time to dispose of the asset.

Preston's voice cut through the memory, sharp with warning. "Katharina. Enough."

Katharina pouted, her voice dropping into a mock-whisper that was still perfectly audible. "It's a valid question. If they could afford plane tickets, they'd have been here sooner. They're probably just penniless trash."

"Katharina." Preston's voice was a low snap as he caught sight of Ainsley descending.

Everyone looked up.

The first thing anyone noticed was the face. Striking. Unapologetic. She wore a simple pale blue t-shirt under an unbuttoned red-and-white striped shirt, the tails tied carelessly at her waist above denim shorts that showed off legs long and pale.

The Thomases all had fair skin. Ainsley's was paler still, almost translucent. It made her eyes-dark, depthless, unreadable-seem even more stark. Every time Preston looked at her, he felt an unbridgeable distance.

Never truly one of us, he thought.

"Ainsley." He pressed his lips together, looked away. His tone was gentler than the rest of the family's. After all, they'd raised her for over a decade. "You packed?"

She reached the bottom of the stairs, the single, light bag a stark contrast to the piles of luggage that usually accompanied their family trips. "Yeah."

Katharina finally saw her. The malicious curiosity vanished, replaced by a mask of wide-eyed, innocent concern. "Oh! Ainsley. I didn't see you there."

Ainsley didn't even grant her a glance. She stepped straight past her.

Ignored publicly. Katharina's lips pressed together in practiced resentment, her long lashes falling as she put on a wounded expression. Her pale face looked even more bloodless, fragile as a white flower swaying in the wind.

Meredith's scowl was immediate. Eleanor's cane slammed against the floor. "Katharina is speaking to you. Are you deaf?"

Katharina instantly looped her arm through her grandmother's, lifting her head to shake it weakly, biting her lip as if defending Ainsley. "Grandmother, please. It's fine. Sister's just upset. It doesn't bother me."

The performance was flawless.

Eleanor's gaze, when it landed on Ainsley, was pure venom. Every line of the old woman's face spelled contempt. "Just as I thought. No Thomas by blood. Raised her for over sixteen years, and she still can't shake that low, petty nature."

"Mother." Preston's voice was a weary plea.

He stepped before Ainsley and pulled out a bank card with practiced magnanimity. "There's a couple thousand on here."

He sighed and pressed it into her hand. The gesture of a man who wanted to believe he was being generous. "Take it. For when you get to your new home. Buy yourself some things. Clothes. Maybe for school."

Preston was always cautious. The Thomases had just secured a major government development project. A critical moment. He wanted no trouble, no loose ends.

Ainsley was a senior. Sent off to some small town now, she would never get into a decent university.

Her life, as far as he was concerned, was effectively over.

Something that might have been pity flickered in Preston's eyes. He pressed the card into Ainsley's hand anyway. Looking at her pale, expressionless face, his voice softened with practiced concern. "You have everything? You can wear that necklace I bought you for your tenth birthday. It was a gift for you-it's yours. No harm in keeping it."

Eleanor's brows knitted instantly. She shot an annoyed glance at Ainsley, but her pride kept her silent over a necklace that cost maybe a couple hundred bucks.

Katharina stood obediently beside her grandmother, echoing Preston's words with sweet insincerity. "Yeah, sis, Dad gave it to you, so you should wear it. You... you might need it later."

She let the sentence hang, the implication clear.

Ainsley lifted her eyelids slowly. The glance she cast Katharina was cold, untamable-the look a wolf gives a yapping lapdog.

Katharina responded with a haughty smile. That patronizing, superior expression matched every other Thomas in the room perfectly. *Same blood,* Ainsley thought. *Same poison.*

She hoisted her shoulder bag higher. She took the bank card Preston had forced into her palm and set it back on the table. Her voice was flat. Unforgiving.

"That necklace is in the top drawer of my old room. You can check if you don't believe me. Aside from the laptop I bought myself with my own money, I haven't taken a single thing that belongs to the Thomas family."

The words landed like ice water.

The Thomases exchanged glances, visibly embarrassed. Especially Eleanor and Meredith, who had stayed silent out of false dignity moments before-their faces darkened instantly.

This was classic Ainsley. Never knew how to be obedient. Always making them lose face.

Katharina glanced at the backpack on Ainsley's shoulders, her eyes flickering with dismissive contempt. She tilted her head, voice dripping with manufactured concern. "Sis, that's not what Mom, Dad, and Grandma meant. You're being way too sensitive. We've lived together for over a decade. Even if you found your birth parents, you're still my sister. We all want you to be happy."

She paused, letting her gaze drop to the bulging backpack.

"If you don't want the necklace, at least take the money Dad offered. I mean, wherever you're going... it's not exactly D.C. You'll need cash for everything. And that backpack looks pretty full-must be more than just a laptop in there."

The implication was surgical. Delivered with a smile.

Preston snapped back to attention, his expression souring as he forced a nod. "Yeah. Take the money. Don't be stubborn."

Ainsley's phone buzzed in her pocket. She glanced at the screen, then back at the family arranged before her like a portrait of hypocrisy. She set the card down one final time-a definitive dismissal.

"No need."

She didn't explain. Didn't justify. Just looked at the caller ID, then toward the door. "My ride's here. I'm leaving."

She walked.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Eleanor exhaled through her nose, a sharp, contemptuous sound. "Hmph. An ungrateful stray, through and through. Sixteen years we wasted raising her, and she couldn't even say a proper goodbye."

Katharina's soft voice drifted through the room, honey over venom. "Grandmother, she's just eager to see her birth parents. Can you blame her?"

She tilted her head, pretending to think. "Though... she said she only took her laptop, but that backpack looked pretty stuffed. Weird, right?"

Preston shook his head, playing the magnanimous patriarch. "Forget it. Sixteen years. Let her take whatever she wants-we don't need the petty cash."

Eleanor leaned on her cane, staring at the closed door as if she could still see the girl walking away. Her lip curled. "Good riddance. She was never one of us anyway."

She turned to Katharina, her voice warming with genuine affection. "And you-stop calling her 'sister.' Someone like her doesn't deserve the title."

Outside, the D.C. heat hit like a furnace. Waves of it rose off the pavement, distorting the air. The streets were nearly empty-just a few elderly residents seeking shade, and one thing that didn't belong.

A matte-black Rolls-Royce Wraith sat idling at the curb outside the manor gates.