2

When Zara Lockwood woke up, she cried for a long time in the arms of Mr. and Mrs. Lockwood, recounting all the hardships she had endured over the years.

In her telling, my biological parents were extremely cruel to her.

They not only made her cook, wash dishes, and clean the house every day, but they also forced her to do all kinds of manual labor. They even made her hand-wash the entire family's laundry in the dead of winter.

"They said I was born just to do her chores." Zara Lockwood's eyes welled up with tears again. "If I did anything that displeased them in the slightest, they would either beat me or scream at me."

Zara Lockwood rolled up her sleeves, revealing two skinny arms covered in bright red scars.

Mrs. Lockwood was both heartbroken and furious. She hugged Zara Lockwood tightly, muttering curses under her breath.

And I, the villain's daughter, just stood there listening in silence.

Even though none of this had anything to do with me, Zara Lockwood kept glancing at me with those timid eyes of hers as she spoke.

'What's this? Is she trying to make me the scapegoat?'

I stared at those bright red scars, finding the whole thing utterly ridiculous.

'There's no way those are old scars.'

"How did you find out you weren't their biological daughter?" Mr. Lockwood finally asked. "And how did you find us?"

Zara Lockwood let out a barely perceptible sigh of relief, a faint smile playing on her lips. She had clearly prepared her answer long ago.

"It was once when her dad drank too much and let it slip."

This time, Zara Lockwood had deliberately changed how she referred to him.

She explained that my biological parents had recently died in a car accident, and only then was she able to luckily escape from that prison.

Her crying grew louder as she spoke. "If Heaven hadn't taken pity on me, they would have sold me to the old bachelor in the next village."

"Heavens!" Hearing this, Mrs. Lockwood nearly fainted from rage. It took her a long moment to compose herself before the color returned to her face.

"If they were still alive, your father and I would have demanded justice for you. We would have made them pay."

At this point, Mrs. Lockwood seemed to remember that I was still standing right beside her.

She gave an awkward laugh. Then, as if to comfort both Zara and me, she said, "Evelyn is the child we raised. We trust her, and we know her character."

Zara Lockwood wiped the tears from her eyes, walked over, and affectionately took my hand. "I believe my sister. And she'll take good care of me from now on, right?"

With her back to Mr. and Mrs. Lockwood, Zara's eyes filled with undisguised loathing.

She lowered her voice to a whisper, "Now that I'm back, haven't you got the sense to get the hell out? You're just a cheap little thief."

Alright, then.

I met her gaze, my eyes curving into smiling crescents. "As for who the real dead weight is... that remains to be seen."

: I Have No Morals

3

Zara froze, clearly not expecting me to answer that way.

It was true. I had been living her life as the Lockwood heiress for over twenty years.

And even though it wasn't my fault, I suppose I should have felt some guilt after hearing her sob story.

But I didn't feel even a shred of it.

The reason was simple: the original Evelyn Lockwood was already dead.

Just a few minutes ago, a new soul had taken over this body.

'Now that I've been given a new life, how could I possibly let them push me around so easily?'

I smiled and, mimicking her, lowered my voice. "Sorry, I've never been one for morals."

'And if you don't have any morals, you can't be guilt-tripped.'

"You!" Zara was furious, but with Mr. and Mrs. Lockwood right there, she couldn't lash out. Instead, she just clung to my arm and continued her sweet act.

"Since Zara's back, I'll head home and have the staff get things ready."

'Why should I stick around the hospital just to be nauseated by these people?'

I found a suitable excuse, got up, and left the room.

She hadn't managed to get a rise out of me, and I wasn't far down the hall before I heard her start to complain.

"Why is my sister so cold to me? Does she not like me?"

Mr. Lockwood's usual stern, icy demeanor vanished, and his voice softened.

"Don't read too much into it. That's just how Evelyn is."

"You'd be shocked if you saw what she's like at work."

Hearing Mrs. Lockwood also brush it off with a chuckle, Zara let out a thoughtful "Oh..." before reverting to her usual sweet, obedient self.

"How about you take the bedroom in the west wing on the second floor?" Mrs. Lockwood suggested to Zara. "It's about the same size as our room. As for the decor, just tell us what you want. Your father and I will make it happen."

Zara didn't answer immediately. Instead, her eyes landed on me.

"Before I decide, can I see my sister's room first?"

Zara seemed to enjoy playing the part of a pitiful, helpless victim. "I grew up in the mountains, so I don't know the first thing about any of this."

And just as Mr. and Mrs. Lockwood had said, aside from the master suite and the guest rooms, the two bedrooms in that wing were the same size.

However, I'd had my room connected to the adjoining study to create a home office, making the entire space feel much larger.

"Sister, can I switch rooms with you?"

Zara only had to stand at the door and glance inside before she was begging pitifully, "I know this might sound a bit forward..."

"If you know it's forward, then why ask?" I didn't pull any punches, cutting off her outrageous request with a stony expression.