The Wrong Daughter

I was the real daughter, switched at birth, and raised by the wrong family. The day I went to live with the Suttons, the girl who’d taken my place was right there to meet me.

“You must be Lily,” she said, all smiles. “We’re gonna be like sisters, and don't you worry, I've got your back.”

I turned back to my real parents, cold fury rising. “You’re going to make a choice,” I said, my voice steady. “It’s her or me. If I stay, she has to go.” Her pampered, entitled life, built on bullying everyone, was about to end.

1.

The day my real parents found me, I was on my knees in the backyard, scrubbing my foster brother’s underwear. My foster mom said the washing machine wasn't good enough and it cost too much, so she made me use water from the rain barrel. It was freezing, maybe twenty degrees, and I’d had to crack ice just to dunk my already chapped hands into the water.

Behind me, through the window, my foster family was all cozy in the heated living room, snacking on chips and watching TV. When I accidentally ripped a hole in one of my foster brother's new pairs, my foster mom flew out of the house and kicked me to the ground. "You little worthless piece of trash! Your life isn't worth the fabric of this underwear."

She grabbed my shirt, ready to slap me, when a man suddenly rushed through the yard, pushing her hand away. “You hag! You hit my daughter!”

…That was the day my real mom cried as she took me to the ER. I was stoic as the doctor treated me, hiding the pain and the shame, which only made my parents feel worse. My real mom’s eyes were red as she fussed over me, and my real dad was constantly running errands, doing everything he could. This display of parental love was like sugar.

But I knew it was just their way of making up for lost time. Seventeen years ago, there had been a mistake, and two babies were switched. They’d raised someone else’s daughter like she was a princess, while their own flesh and blood endured years of abuse and degradation.

…After a full checkup and the doctor’s okay, my real mom took me home. She said she was going to make it up to me, compensate for all the good times I had missed. As she daydreamed, her eyes would go soft, and I could see her hesitating about something.

“Lily, Sarah’s so excited to have you home. She bought you so many gifts. They’re all in your room. You two girls need to be good to each other.”

It was a test. And it showed how she really felt about Sarah. After seventeen years of raising her, Mom still loved that girl like her own. A mother’s heart wouldn't let her just turn off her feelings like a switch.

As Mom spoke of Sarah, I couldn’t help but think of my best friend, Katie. She was the same age as me, my partner in everything. Unlike Sarah, Katie had been bullied, and she had killed herself six months earlier. I just smiled, not answering. My mom’s face became worried, and my dad glanced at me in the rearview mirror, full of pity and affection.

We pulled up to the Suttons’ mansio...