When my biological parents found me, I had just crawled out of the coal mine in West Virginia.

I was covered in coal dust, filthy and disheveled.

I could tell they looked at me with disgust.

Richard Grant, my biological father, even said, “Hire another car for him — don’t let him dirty the family car.”

Elizabeth Grant, my biological mother, forced a caring tone through her disdain: “Child, you’ve been through so much these years. Go home and wash up, and Mom will take good care of you.”

Then they climbed into the car and left.

With them was their adopted daughter, Sophia Grant. She glanced at me, then at her pink Maserati, sighed, and said, “Get in my car.”

“There’s a shower at the mine. I can wash and change before I get in.”

I answered listlessly and went to wash.

After I changed, I got into Sophia’s Maserati and went to my parents’ house.

Back at the Grant house, I didn’t see my biological parents right away. Instead I saw someone around my age — Liam Grant, the family’s false heir, the one who had been switched with me at birth.

Liam stepped forward smiling, grabbed my hand and said, “I guess I should call you my brother, right? Don’t worry — I won’t do that whole real-or-fake heir nonsense. From now on we’re real brothers. Let’s get along!”

As he spoke, he shoved a small kitchen knife into my hand and pulled me toward him as if to make me stab him.

On our first meeting he put a fruit knife in my hand and dragged me toward him. Was this some twisted Grant family welcome ritual?

I’m lazy but strong; I didn’t let him succeed.

He pulled hard but couldn’t move me, then blinked at me with a strangely clear look in his eyes.

He tried to pull again.

I pointed at the phone hanging from my chest and, sparing words, said: “Documenting life.”

Liam was startled and immediately let go of my hand.

Just then Sophia, who had parked the car, came in. Seeing the knife in my hand and Liam’s frightened face, her expression turned odd.

I couldn’t be bothered to explain, so I casually placed the knife back into Liam’s hand.

“Sis, you’re back!” Liam said.

“I told Mrs. Johnson to prepare oatmeal with blueberries for you. I’ll go get it.”

His face was full of ingratiating smiles.

“Not hungry.”

Sophia shook her head, then turned to me and asked, “Ethan Walker, are you hungry?”

“Too lazy to eat.”

I went to the sofa and collapsed onto it, took some snacks from my backpack and stuffed them into my mouth with a half-dead expression.

This was my state of life: sit instead of stand, lie down instead of sit.

“Tired?” Sophia asked with concern.

“Not really.”

I kept eating, brought out my tablet, typing code with my left hand while scrolling videos on my phone with my right, occasionally shoveling snacks into my mouth.

Sophia and Liam stared at me like I was a freak.

Especially Liam — he came closer and, seemingly kind, said, “Brother, you suffered these years and you weren’t taught upper-class manners. If people find out about you like this, the Grants will lose face. Don’t worry — I’ll teach you social etiquette.”

“Too lazy to learn.”

I yawned and, somewhat helpfully, said, “The mine’s busy. Are you sure you don’t want to go home to help?”

To me, biological parents deserved a visit; that’s why I’d come back. So I figured he might want to see his own parents too.

Liam’s mouth twitched and his eyes suddenly reddened: “Brother, if you don’t like me being in the Grant family then I’ll leave.”

“Whatever.”

I could see he said he wouldn’t play the heir game, but he still wanted to fight for it.

Fight for what?

Wealth?

I wasn’t interested.

I really wanted to tell him I didn’t care about money.

But I knew he wouldn’t believe me — normal people wouldn’t — so I didn’t bother explaining.

Sophia sat down beside me and said, “Mom and Dad said they’re going abroad for a few days. When they get back they’ll make it up to you. Please don’t think too much about it.”

“Oh.”

I nodded, in a state where my soul felt ready to float out through the top of my head.

Sophia seemed helpless, then looked at Liam and asked, “Is the room ready?”

“We’re still preparing it, but I care about our brother a lot, so I’m making many preparations.”

“Sis, why don’t we let Brother stay in the guest room tonight?” Liam said, sounding conflicted.

Sophia frowned, as if she’d seen through Liam’s little scheme: “He just got back. He shouldn’t stay in the guest room — he’s family, not a guest!”

“Got it, sis. In this house, I’m the outsider…”

Liam said, then suddenly burst into tears.

I saw Sophia roll her eyes; I wanted to roll mine too, but I was too lazy.

“I’ll sleep anywhere as long as there’s a window and ventilation,” I said casually.

Sophia breathed a sigh of relief, seemingly glad the rightful son wasn’t hard to please: “Then pick any room except Mom and Dad’s. I’ll personally arrange your room tomorrow.”

Liam complained in a wronged voice: “Sis, I can arrange a room for Brother too.”

Sophia ignored him and instead said to me, “I have a meeting at the office this afternoon. If anything comes up we can talk after I get back tonight.”

“Oh.”

I answered and went back to lying like a corpse on the sofa.

Sophia shook her head, a little exasperated at my laziness. She left quickly — her position at the company seemed important.

After she left, Liam said to me, “Brother, I’ll take you to a good room. You’ll like it.”

“Fine.”

Reluctantly I got up.

If I could have stripped down and stayed dead on the living room sofa, I would have. I was that lazy.

As for Liam’s flattering, I knew he had tricks, but I didn’t care.

Sure enough, he brought me to a room on the second floor.

The room smelled nice, there was a vanity full of skincare products, and a big bed with pale pink bedding.

On the vanity was even a photo of Sophia.

I looked at Liam helplessly, thinking, Are you really so dumb? Can’t you see this is Sophia’s room?

Liam, as if he hadn’t noticed, smiled at me: “Brother, if you like it here, rest.”

“Okay.”

I nodded.

Though I knew he was setting me up, I was too lazy to pick another room.

I wanted nothing more than a shower and then to lie dead on the bed.

Liam couldn’t help but grin, then rushed out as if afraid I’d change my mind.

I took a shower and then went to lie still.

That night I was woken by a soft cough — it was Sophia.

She stood at the bedside in a black professional skirt, her face cold, as if waiting for me to explain.

Liam murmured beside her, “Sis, I couldn’t help it — Ethan insisted on this room. I told him you were picky, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Is it comfortable?”

Sophia held back for a moment, then asked those three words.

I’d expected her to be angry given Liam’s goading.

I rubbed my eyes, nodded seriously and said, “It’s comfortable. The incense helps me sleep.”

“Then you can sleep here.”

Sophia looked at me in surprise, apparently not expecting me to know that incense aids sleep.

Liam looked wronged and said, “Sis, you used to be upset when I came into your room. Why can Brother sleep in your room?”

“Hungry?”

Sophia ignored him and smiled at me.

I nodded and added, “But I don’t want to get out of bed.”

“Okay, I’ll bring it up.”

Sophia nodded and left.

Liam glared, grinding his teeth: “Why? She just got back and is already so nice to you. She’s picky but lets you sleep in her bed and even eat in it — why?”

I didn’t bother replying and scrolled videos on my phone.

Liam felt like a clown but didn’t leave — he seemed intent on seeing how I would eat in Sophia’s bed.

Before long Sophia pushed in a meal cart.

There was a small pull-out tray on the cart that could serve as a table — I only had to sit up to eat.

I sat up listlessly, took a few bites, and then ate quickly.

Sophia went to the desk to handle company matters on her laptop and didn’t look at me.

Liam grabbed the juice on the cart.

I knew his plan — he probably intended to spill the juice on the bed and then complain to clean-freak Sophia about my rudeness.

I didn’t know how she’d react, but if he pulled some trick I’d have to change rooms.

I was lazy and didn’t want to move.

So I picked up my phone and pointed it at him.

Liam froze mid-splash, put on an awkward smile and handed the juice to me: “Brother, drink the juice.”

“No.”

I glanced over at Sophia; she was looking toward me too.

In that accidental look I noticed her eyes were beautiful and deep, as if she could see through everything.

“Sophia, you have the college entrance exams coming up, shouldn’t you be studying?” she asked.

Liam’s mouth twitched; understanding he was being dismissed, he left.

After I finished eating, the housekeeper — Mrs. Johnson — came in to clean.

Then I resumed: left hand typing code, right hand scrolling my phone.

Unnoticed, three hours passed and I got sleepy.

I planned to take a shower and sleep.

At that moment Sophia finished her work and came over, placing a bottle of supplements on the bedside table: “It’s a brain-health supplement.”

“Thanks, sis.”

I looked at her suspiciously, wondering how she knew I needed brain-nourishing supplements.

But she’d already left the room.

I was too lazy to ask, so I showered, took the supplement, and fell asleep.

In the following days I rarely left the room.

Liam kept trying to cause trouble but never had the chance.

Sophia handled company affairs in her room every day, but we barely spoke.

Then one day, while I was sleeping, someone suddenly yanked the covers off me.

I woke to find my biological father had returned and it was he who pulled the blanket away.

“How can you sleep here?” Richard snapped.

“Brother — although she’s adopted, you should watch your appearance!”

“If people find out that the rightful heir of the Grants sleeps in his sister’s room as soon as he returns, what will they say?”