I was three years old when I went to see human traffickers who begged me to take me.

Years later, a wealthy couple with the last name Miller showed up. They were crying as they claimed they had finally found their long-lost biological son.

With delight, I rushed forward to them, only to be thrown into a locked room by my adoptive parents and then whipped within an inch of my life.

"Only my son deserves to be the young master of the Miller Family! Once Caleb becomes the son of the Miller Family, he'll be rich and we'll never have to worry about money again!"

Then just like that, the Miller Family took my adoptive mother's precious biological son, Caleb. While I? I was left behind and had to endure my adoptive family's beatings and scolding at home.

Even though they had waited for a long time for Caleb to send them money, he never did. Instead, they only got the bruised and battered Caleb to return to the mountain.

This made my adoptive parents anxious. However, I just laughed at them because this was my time to step into the spotlight.

——

"David Brown, I’m warning you!" my adoptive mother shrieked. "Before long, Caleb will be coming back from the Miller Family and you better not ruin this for him!"

My adoptive mother slapped me hard across the face and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

Ever since the day I let those traffickers take me into the mountains, I had learned to live with her beatings and scolding. She would beat me whether she was in a bad mood or a good mood. She even locked me up without food for days.

She had pushed me into the river several times. Luckily, I knew how to swim, otherwise I would have died a long time ago.

Once, she even tried to give me away to a disgusting old man in the village. Thankfully, he got arrested and I managed to survive until I was eighteen years old.

All this started because a few years after I was taken, the Miller Family heard that my adoptive parents had taken in a child. So, they came looking for me.

So, my adoptive parents put their heads together and lied to them. They claimed their real son, Caleb, was the adopted one. They sent him into the Miller's family’s luxury car.

Since then, the phrase I heard most from my adoptive mother was. "Once Caleb starts sending back money to us, our family will be rich."

However, years have passed and there was not a single word about Caleb, until today.

Grinning from ear to ear, my adoptive mother beamed, “The Miller Family personally called me! Mr. and Mrs. Miller are bringing Caleb back themselves! They must be grateful for how I raised him. I bet they’re coming with money!”

I just stared at her with cold eyes and did not say a word.

This made her slap me again and yell at me, "What’s that look for? Remember! Caleb is the Miller Family’s young master. You, David, are just some worthless hillbilly trash that was born and raised in the mountain."

"If you dare say anything to the Miller Family that ruins this, you’re dead!"

Since she was not satisfied with beating me, she resorted to kicking me hard again then reached out and twisted my waist as she kicked me.

My body hurt so much and I could only endure in silence, no one knew better than me, but whenever I screamed, her abuse would escalate.

When my foster mom finished venting, a child rushed in, “Auntie Brown, there's a car coming! It's a luxurious!”

A luxury car came and stopped smoothly at the entrance. When the doors opened, an elegant couple, dressed in luxury from head to toe, stepped out.

My adoptive mother immediately welcomed them with a flattering smile.

"Mr. Miller, Mrs. Milly! I’m Anna Brown. I'm the woman who raised little Caleb!" she said tearfully as she wiped at fake tears. "They asked me to pay them fifteen thousand dollars before I took him in, but I didn’t even hesitate!"

Then she launched into a dramatic story about how pitiful Caleb had been when she saved him. However, all my adoptive mother had said was a lie. It was actually the story of my life.

"We might be poor, but I’ve never let Caleb suffer," she said. "I gave him the best food, the best care!"

My adoptive mother wanted to continue her story and yet, Mrs. Miller covered her mouth and nose in disgust.

"Enough," Mrs. Miller cut her off. "We’re here to return Caleb Brown to you."

Her words made my adoptive mother froze. She stammered, "You want to return him to us? What … what do you mean?"

She then looked incredulously at Mr. and Mrs. Miller.

However, Mr. and Mrs. Miller did not pay her any attention. My adoptive mother's gaze was directed behind their back but she did not see Caleb anywhere.

She tried to peek into the luxury car, but she was yanked back by the driver.

Mrs. Miller pointed toward the van behind them with a disgusted look on her face and said, “He’s over there.”

My adoptive mother followed her finger and looked at the van. She looked even more confused. “He is in a van? Why would Caleb be in a van?”

The driver walked over to the van and opened the door.

My adoptive mother leaned forward to look in the van. Her face was full of bewilderment. A second later, her scream shook the entire yard. "Caleb!"

“My Caleb!” she cried out again.

I stepped forward to get a better look inside the van through the open door.

The van’s seats had been stripped out and replaced with a rough wooden plank that was placed roughly. Lying on it was a thin, nearly unrecognizable figure. His body was so emaciated, that half of it hung limply off the board. His eyes were shut tight and completely unresponsive.

When my foster mother pulled the body from the van, I realized that every inch of Caleb's exposed skin was covered in bruises, black and blue. There was even a faint scar across his abdomen.

“I gave him to you perfectly fine! What the hell did you people do to him?!” she screamed as she cradled Caleb’s battered body. Her bloodshot eyes locked onto the Miller.

Mr. Miller's brows tightened and he looked serious. “You’ve got nerve asking us that. You handed over an imposter and tried to pass him off as the Miller Family’s heir! I should’ve ended this low life on the spot immediately. You should be grateful he’s still breathing.”

My adoptive mother froze. A beat passed, then she stammered, clearly flustered, “What … impostor? Back then, it was you guys who came to our door yourselves. You said that I had adopted your son and only then did I give Caleb to you guys!”

When Mr. Miller's eyes were directed to my adopted mother, they were so cold, "We’ve investigated everything. Back then, you had a biological son and an adopted one. Caleb is your real son.”

Panic spread across my adoptive mother's face. “T … That’s not true! My son died years ago. Caleb is definitely your biological child!”

Mr. Miller’s eyes narrowed. “You just won’t quit, will you? Hold her down!”

The two drivers grabbed her and forced her to the ground.

Mr. Miller planted his foot on her hand and pressed hard. “Speak! Where the hell is my real son?”

She grimaced in pain. Even though her whole body trembled, she still refused. “It’s … it’s Caleb … he’s your son …”

Mr. Miller was a vicious man. His foot, which was stepped on my adoptive mother's hand, pressed even harder. She took a sharp breath in pain but kept her mouth shut.

I figured it was time, so I stepped out from the crowd and calmly walked forward. “Dad. I’m the son you’re looking for.”

My adoptive mother instantly broke into a rage, “Bastard David! What are you babbling about? Get the hell out of here!”

I did not pay any attention to her. I stood tall in front of Mr. Miller. “Caleb is Anna’s biological son. I’m the one you’ve been looking for all these years.”

My adoptive mother struggled violently against the grip of the drivers.

“No! He’s lying! Mr. Miller, he has nothing to do with our family!”

I looked Mr. Miller in the eyes and said, “That day … I wanted candy and you wouldn’t let me have any. So I snuck out of the house and someone lured me away into the mountains.”

“I have a circular birthmark on my shoulder and I was wearing a gold pendant around my neck back then," I added.

I opened my palm. In it was a small, golden pendant. I had buried it years ago beneath the tree in the yard to wait for this exact moment. Finally, my patience paid off.

From the ground, my adoptive mother roared even louder, “You little bastard! When did you hide that pendant? You filthy brat! I should’ve just choked you to death back then!”

Mrs. Miller snatched the pendant from my hand and turned it over to examine the inside as if looking for something.

A moment later, she glanced at Mr. Miller and gave a firm nod.

“There’s a ‘Miller’ engraved inside. This is ours.”

Mrs. Miller yanked me over to her side again. As she held back her disgust, she tugged down the collar of my shirt to inspect my shoulder.

“The birthmark matches too. Honey, this is really our son!” she said.

My adoptive mother finally gave up struggling. She lay limp on the ground, her eyes filled with venom as she glared at me.

Under the envious gazes of the villagers, I stepped into the luxury car.

The familiar countryside faded into the distance as we drove away. I was finally returning to the Miller Family.

On the way, no one spoke. Maybe it was because we had been separated for too long. The silence was heavy.

Then suddenly, Mrs. Miller’s phone rang. Her face lit up with the gentlest, most doting smile the moment she saw the caller ID.

"Leo, Daddy and Mommy are on their way back. Be good at the hospital, okay? You’ll be able to have your surgery very soon.”

The person on the other end was my older brother, Leo Miller. He’d been suffering from leukemia since childhood and he was their most precious treasure.

As for me … I was born for the sole purpose of saving him.

I never expected that after all these years away, he’d still be alive.

The moment we got back to the Miller residence, Mrs. Miller instructed a maid to show me to the bathroom so I could shower.

Inside the bathroom, I tried turning on the hot water, but could not figure out how. I was about to go ask for help from the maid when I heard voices coming from my room.

I quietly turned on the water to mask any sound, then leaned close to the bathroom door and peeked through the gap.

I heard Mrs. Miller ask Mr. Miller, “That boy's name, David Brown, is so awful. Should we just change it back?”

Mr. Miller snorted. “Why bother? He’s just a walking blood bank for Leo. Whatever his name doesn’t even matter.”

Mrs. Miller agreed. “I’ll have the maid slip something in his water. Once he falls asleep, we’ll head to the hospital. Leo can’t wait any longer.”

They walked out of the room as they talked.

I quietly closed the bathroom door and took a cold shower instead.

When I finished taking a bath, sure enough, there was a glass of water waiting for me on the nightstand.

I poured half of it into the sink and carefully placed the cup back to make it look like I’d drunk it. Then I lay on the bed and closed my eyes.

The mattress was soft and I was bone-tired. For just a second, I actually wanted to fall asleep. However, I pinched my thigh hard enough to jolt myself awake.

Time passed for a long time as I was waiting while pretending to sleep. Eventually, the bedroom door creaked open.

Mrs. Miller's voice came softly by my ear. “David? David?”

I kept my eyes closed and did not answer her.

A few moments later, several people came in. Quietly, they lifted me from the bed.

I was carried into the same van they’d used to bring Caleb. The ride was not long before the van came to a stop. Then they carried me off the hall.

I heard Mrs. Miller speaking. “Doctor, this is Leo’s biological younger brother. Hurry up with the transplant.”

The doctor sounded uncertain. “Young Master Miller’s last transplant failed because the bone marrow didn’t match. His body is already rejecting it. If it happens again, the consequences could be fatal.”

“I recommend running another compatibility test. Just to be sure," he advised.

Mrs. Miller immediately became worried. "No! Leo couldn't wait anymore! A new test takes days! His condition’s deteriorating by the hour! Can you guarantee he’ll live long enough to wait for results?"

The doctor didn’t respond.

Mrs. Miller pushed on, “I had this child through IVF. We screened the embryo beforehand to make sure he’d be a matching transplant donor for Leo. Last time, we made a mistake because we had the wrong boy. However, this one is his true biological brother. There’s no mistake now!”

“Just do the surgery. I want Leo to live!” she urged.

Mr. Miller added earnestly, “Doctor, we promise you, he is Leo's real brother.”

Eventually, he blew a breath of defeat and said, "Alright."

They pushed me into the operating room.

Since they had already drugged me with a sleeping pill, Mr. and Mrs. Miller were afraid additional anesthesia would interfere with a successful bone marrow retraction for Leo. So, they told the doctor not to give him any anesthesia.

The doctor began extracting bone marrow from my spine and a wave of excruciating pain crashed over me. However. to keep them from realizing I was still conscious, I clenched my jaw and endured it.

Just as I was about to pass out from the pain, the bone marrow extraction finally ended.

They wheeled me out of the operating room. The doctor took my bone marrow to be transplanted into Leo.

Mr. and Mrs. Miller had no time to look at me. They paced anxiously in front of the OR, their faces full of worry.

A long while passed before the doors finally opened.

Mrs. Miller rushed forward, her voice filled with hope. “Doctor, how’s Leo? The surgery was a success, right?”

However, the doctor shook his head. “There was a rejection during the procedure. You’ll need to sign a critical condition notice.”

Mr. Miller looked stunned. “Rejection? How? Is he really our biological son?”

Mrs. Miller froze. Her eyes snapped to me who was still lying motionless on the gurney.

“Rejection? That’s impossible! We screened the match before he was born! Unless … unless he’s not our son at all!”