The richest man's daughter was replaced

Three years old when I got lost on a family trip to Disneyland. I was chasing Mickey Mouse, I swear. And then, poof. Gone.

Sixteen years. Gone, just like that.

Then, boom. Found. Back with my parents. And surprise! They were loaded. Like, Silicon Valley rich. Suddenly I wasn't just little lost Lily; I was Lily Lancaster, heiress to a fortune.

They treated me like I was made of glass. My mom, especially. She insisted I wear this "protection amulet," a heavy gold Buddha pendant. It was blessed by some guru, she said, for extra safety. It felt more like a ball and chain.

"Lily-bug," Mom would coo, "you're our precious miracle. All we want is for you to be safe. This amulet will keep you safe. Never take it off."

But my roommate, Sarah, a goth girl with a surprisingly sunny disposition, saw right through it.

“Lily, that’s not a protection amulet. It's a life-swap charm. It's draining your life force to keep someone else alive.”

Sixteen years. Sixteen years I spent in some backwater town, raised by a foster family who barely scraped by. I was wearing hand-me-down clothes three sizes too big when my parents finally tracked me down, thanks to some fancy private investigator and a hefty reward. My mom, dripping in diamonds, looked like she’d landed on another planet.

Back in their five-story mansion, it was a whirlwind of luxury. Trips to Europe, shopping sprees, anything I wanted. Bored with that? Mom pulled some strings, made a hefty donation, and suddenly I was a freshman at Stanford, even though the semester had already started. She even bought a condo nearby so she could “be close.”

My parents had another child, an eight-year-old brother named Ethan. He was sickly, always in and out of the hospital. He was sweet, calling me "Sis" with an infectious grin, but he looked nothing like my parents, or me. I brushed off the nagging feeling that something was off, chalking it up to my long absence.

Ethan seemed to be getting better, though. At first, he was pale and weak, but gradually he gained color and energy. I was thrilled, and I felt strangely protective of him. I'd even think, "I wish I could take his pain away." Maybe the golden Buddha heard me, because the healthier he got, the sicker I became. Colds, fevers, constant fatigue. I was missing classes left and right.

Mom fussed over me, bringing homemade meals to my dorm. But the food tasted…off. Like something rotting. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her, though. Her eyes held this desperate plea for me to be okay.

One afternoon, I came back to the dorm early after gym, sweaty and gross. I ripped off the amulet; the short chain always felt like it was choking me. I showered and was just putting on my pajamas when Mom walked in. I'd forgotten to lock the door.

“Lily!” Her voice was sharp, unlike her usual gentle tone. “Where is it? Why aren’t you wearing it?”

She spotted the amulet on my desk, snatched it up, and frantically examined it. I was stunned by her reaction. This wasn’t my mom....