Hartford.
The Heather Residence.
"I just wanted a child, one child!"
A middle-aged woman, dressed in a tank top and smoking a cigarette, shouted emotionally, "But I can't have one! What am I supposed to do?"
"That's enough."
On the nearby sofa, a middle-aged man slouched with his feet propped up on the coffee table. He held a can of beer and growled at the woman.
Opposite them, Heather watched calmly.
Ever since receiving the letter from her grandmother—the grandmother she never knew existed—informing her that she had passed away three weeks prior and had left her an estate and farm to inherit, Heather had immediately flown back to confront her parents.
To her surprise, but also with a sense of inevitability, she learned she wasn't their biological daughter. She was adopted.
Her biological parents were someone else, and the woman in the letter was her real grandmother.
This explained the distant feeling she always had with her parents.
It wasn't just her imagination.
Memories from her childhood resurfaced, clearly showing her that it wasn't just in her head—her adoptive parents had always maintained a certain distance from her.
Whenever she was mischievous and punished to stand in the corner, they would argue heatedly in the distance, especially her adoptive father, whose occasional glances at her were cold and terrifying.
Although her adoptive mother often shielded her, there was always a hint of detachment, conflict, and even fear in her eyes.
"Can you tell me anything about my grandmother or my family?"
Heather looked calmly at her adoptive parents.
After spending several years with Adam and Juno, her personality had become more composed, and she instinctively sensed that there was a hidden secret here.
The reason was simple.
Her adoptive parents were struggling financially, both heavy smokers and drinkers. Much of the money she earned from part-time jobs was taken by them.
Yet, when she mentioned the inheritance from her grandmother, their first reaction wasn't joy but anxiety and agitation.
It didn't make sense.
Coupled with their distant and fearful attitude toward her growing up, it was clear this wasn't just about her being adopted.
Who would fear their adopted child?
Unless they knew something!
And it must be related to her biological family.
After all, back then, she had nothing but her bloodline.
She had her suspicions.
Her biological grandmother owned an estate and a farm, indicating that her family was well-off.
But she was adopted by parents who were struggling financially and had even moved far away from Texas to Hartford. Clearly, they didn't want her to have any connection with her blood relatives.
Their attitude toward her was more fear and irritation than love, suggesting that her adoption wasn't the result of a friendly agreement.
And after hearing her adoptive mother admit that she was infertile but desperately wanted a child...
The conclusion was obvious—she was likely abducted.
Although she wasn't entirely certain, Heather was inclined to believe her theory.
What is it like to be kidnapped and raised as someone's daughter?
Heather decided she wanted no part of it.
If her adoptive parents had truly loved her like their own, she might have been able to forgive them.
But growing up, she had felt more fear and distance than love.
And when it came to caregiving, she had taken on all the housework from a young age because her parents were frequently drunk.
During her teenage years, she worked part-time to help support the household.
Even then, most of her earnings were taken by her adoptive parents for cigarettes and alcohol.
If she hadn't worked hard enough, she would never have made it to college in New York. She would have been stuck there, likely ending up in a loveless marriage and repeating her parents' lives.
But her life wasn't supposed to be like this.
"You don't want to know," her adoptive mother said hysterically. "We raised you. If you ask me, you're lucky. Those people... I can't even bring myself to say it..."
"Shut up!" her adoptive father shouted.
After his wife went silent and took another drag from her cigarette, he turned to Heather and sneered, "We picked you up out of the trash, and now you know? Happy now? I should have left you there."
"Maybe you really should have."
Heather stood up, looking coldly at her adoptive parents.
Her father was stunned.
Her mother forgot to take another drag from her cigarette.
As Heather turned and walked out the door, silence filled the room.
After a long pause, her father shouted, "See? That's the daughter you raised! After everything we did for her, this is how she repays us?
Just like those Sawyer bastards—cold and heartless! We should have left her to die like her mother. That would've been the end of it."
"That's not true... it's not like that..."
Her adoptive mother's words were a weak protest, but her hands trembled as Heather's cold gaze lingered in her mind.
Outside the door, Heather leaned against the wall, listening quietly. When she heard, "We should have left her to die like her mother," she froze.
Not only did they kidnap her, but they also let her birth mother die!
She covered her mouth, forcing herself to stay calm. She needed more information.
Any remaining affection she had for them vanished, leaving her heart cold and hollow.
Inside, her adoptive parents continued to argue, completely unaware that Heather was still outside, eavesdropping.
Her father cursed Heather and her biological family, blaming his wife for insisting on adopting her.
Her mother sobbed quietly but didn't defend Heather this time.
Heather remained outside, listening intently.
Half an hour later, having learned all she could, she slipped away without a sound.
Back at her hotel, she slammed the door shut and collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in the pillow as she sobbed uncontrollably.
In one day, she had lost four family members.
Her grandmother, her mother, and her adoptive parents.
And in the most cruel and twisted way imaginable. Anyone would be devastated.
She pulled the pillow away, her face streaked with tears. She picked up the phone, wanting to call Adam.
But just as she dialed a few numbers, she stopped.
After a long pause, she put the phone down and wiped away her tears, a determined look in her eyes.
This was her battle. She needed to face it alone.
And she didn't want to drag Adam into it.
He was her sunshine, and she wouldn't let the darkness touch him.
Resolving herself, she picked up the phone again and spoke calmly.
"Book me a ticket to Dallas."
(End of Chapter)