The student I once sponsored, Lillian Pegg, jacked my identity, slapped on the "rich heiress" title, and started tossing out houses and cars like she was some fairy godmother for "underprivileged" students.

Her big mission? Making sure everyone had a roof over their head.

My in-laws? Wrapped around her finger. They swore up and down she'd saved their lives. Even Liam—my son with my late husband—acted like she was the only mom he'd ever had.

Meanwhile, I was puking blood from ulcers, and everyone treated it like a bad improv act.

Liam bought every word out of her mouth. Thought she and my husband were some kind of twin-flame couple and labeled me the evil baby snatcher.

Fast-forward: I got locked in a bedroom and left to bleed out.

Then I woke up.

It was the exact day Lillian was playing Santa Claus. The crowd around her practically worshipped her.

"You're the kindest boss in the world! You care about our food, clothes, housing, everything. We'll support you and your company forever!"

Yeah, not on my watch.

I shut down all her privileges right then and there.

This time? Lillian and that backstabbing son of mine were gonna eat regret for the rest of their lives.

"Lillian, you're amazing! You even care about broke students like us—buying us houses and cars? You're literally one in a million!"

"Just landing a job with you feels like winning the lottery!"

"Hurry, Lillian! The TV crew's still waiting for your interview!"

...

My head was a mess—like someone had thrown a sheet over my brain.

Then it started to clear. And there she was: Lillian Pegg, front and center, soaking up the spotlight, holding court with reporters like she actually built the empire she stole.

I reached up, fingers brushing my forehead. The wound Liam gave me? Gone. And my stomach—usually a war zone—felt warm, steady.

No way. I was alive. I was back.

I stepped forward, half in a daze, trying to get to Lillian.

Then bam—one of her groupies stumbled and shoved me aside. "Who even are you? Move!"

That shout flipped every head.

Lillian spotted me too. Her smile twitched, just for a second, before she snapped on that fake sweetness.

"Clara, what are you doing here? Go wait in my office, okay? I'll find you after the interview."

That soft tone? Instant charm bomb. A few more employees practically melted.

Last time around, Arthur and I were in the same car when it crashed. He died shielding me.

I made it out, barely—broken and spiraling.

I backed off from the company. Gave up.

Then Lillian showed up, all sweet and grateful, saying she just wanted to pay me back for sponsoring her.

We weren't that far apart in age, and over time, she felt like the little sister I never had. She kept showing up, acting all capable and loyal, so I handed her the reins at Vectorial Corp—just for a while.

Yeah. Huge mistake.

Turns out, all that kindness was an act. She didn't want to help me. She wanted to be me—take my company, my family, my life.

I didn't say a word. Just turned and walked into the office.

Dropped into my old chair, lifted my hand, and wiped her access clean.

She wanted fame? Cool. She was about to be front-page material.

The day I buried Arthur, I was barely holding it together.

Lillian showed up just in time, stepping in to handle everything.

That night, I found her crying alone. When I asked why, she finally cracked—said her husband had just beaten her.

The bruises were everywhere. I teared up just looking at her.

She'd just been through hell and still showed up for me. How was I supposed to ignore that?

I jumped into action. Collected every shred of evidence I could, hired the best lawyer money could buy, and made sure she had a fighting shot in court.

While the case dragged on, I let her crash at my place. I was scared her husband might come back for round two.

She was all thanks and sweetness—cooked, cleaned, kept the house running.

Even Arthur's parents, Bobby and Whitney—who had a complaint for everything—started singing her praises.

There was even that one time a dog came charging at them, and Lillian threw herself in the way. Landed in the hospital for days after the bite.

From then on, Bobby and Whitney treated her like the daughter they never had.

But then... things started getting weird.

Liam, deep in his rebel era, started turning to Lillian for heart-to-hearts. She even began showing up at his school events—in my place.

Next thing I knew, he ditched his grades, got starry-eyed over music, and swore he was destined to be famous.

Bobby and Whitney, who used to nitpick everything I did, started acting like I was invisible. Family dinners? Happening without me.

When I asked why, they gave me the classic "we didn't want to bother you while you heal" excuse.

I didn't want to jump to conclusions, so I stayed quiet.

Meanwhile, work at Vectorial Corp kept stacking up.

Lillian, all smiles, said she'd handle things "for now."

She had a solid résumé—worked at a few big-name firms, knew Vectorial Corp like the back of her hand. I figured, why not?

But Liam? He kept slipping further away. Weeks would pass without a single visit.

Even asking if he'd eaten was enough to make him slam the door in my face.

Then came the day I told Lillian to fix a botched project. Liam snapped.

He stormed in, grabbed a cup off the table, and chucked it straight at me.

"Mom's just trying to help you! You're nothing but a useless patient—who are you to blame her?"

Just like that, the switch was complete.

From "Ms. Pegg," to "Lillian," to "mom."

Bobby and Whitney decided I was the villain—cold, ungrateful, heartless.

Behind my back, they told people I'd killed Arthur and was clawing at the company for myself.

Then my ulcer came back with a vengeance. Blood, blackouts, black stools—the whole horror show.

They didn't care.

They locked me in my room. Said I was "faking it for attention" and refused to take me to the hospital.

That's when it hit me.

I'd been erased. Replaced. Lillian had my life.

I collapsed on the floor, bleeding out.

They covered it up as a "fire." Nice, clean little story to keep her hands spotless.

And Liam's words still echo in my head:

"You used your power to steal my mom's husband and ripped me away from her. You deserve this."

Drained. Burned.

It still feels like a nightmare I never woke up from.

But not for long.

This time, every ounce of pain they gave me? I'm handing it right back—double.

I drummed my fingers on the desk. A second later, the door slammed open.

Lillian barged in, fake smile long gone. "Clara Quinton, why'd you freeze my card? The TV reporters are still outside! Are you trying to tank Vectorial Corp's rep?

"I've worked my butt off to build this image, and now you're tearing it down?

"You never even cared about this company, and now look at you—wrecking everything. What kind of person..."

Blah, blah, blah. She was on a roll, playing the betrayed saint like I was the villain wrecking her charity act.

I rolled my eyes, dropped my phone, and finally met her stare. "My card. My company. I'll do whatever I want."

I raised my voice. "You're more worked up than the owner. At this rate, people might think you're running Vectorial Corp!"

Lillian froze. Her face twisted, then melted into fake guilt real quick.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "It's just... this really matters to the company. I got emotional. Can you unfreeze the card now, please?"

I arched a brow and shot her a look.

"Oh, so the company's rep depends on you buying houses for those 'underprivileged students'? You mean your half-literate cousins?" My voice was loud enough to hit the hallway. "You blew MY company's money and called in the press. Bold move."

Outside, the staff traded glances, unsure who to side with.

Lillian clenched her jaw, eyes darting away from the door. Rattled.

She was still scrambling for a comeback when the door swung open again.

Liam stormed in, slammed his hand on the desk. "If you're still sick, go lie down! What are you even doing here? Don't you get how hard Mom works? Why are you wrecking everything?"

He'd been here before with his dad, so the employees knew who he was.

Now, hearing him call Lillian "Mom"? Yeah, that sealed it. No one was questioning her act anymore.