“Suit yourself.”

I could tell that although she said she wouldn’t play the ‘real and fake daughter’ drama, she still wanted to fight.

But fight for what?

Property?

I wasn’t interested.

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

But I knew she definitely wouldn’t believe me — no normal person would.

And I couldn’t be bothered to explain.

Alden walked over and sat next to me, saying, “Mom and Dad said they're going abroad for a few days. When they come back, they’ll make it up to you. They hope you don’t overthink.”

“Hmm,” I nodded rigidly, feeling like my soul could float out of my body at any time.

Alden sighed a little, then turned to Celia. “Is the room ready?”

“I'm still working on it,” Celia said, looking a little guilty. “Since Sherrie’s important to us, I want to make sure everything’s perfect.”

“Maybe we can let Sherrie stay in a guest room tonight?” she added, sounding hesitant.

Alden frowned, clearly seeing through her little scheme. “How could she stay in the guest room? She’s family, not a guest!”

“I’m sorry. I know that I’m the outsider here,” Celia said and then she actually started crying.

I saw Alden roll his eyes. I wanted to roll mine too, but I was too lazy.

“I can stay anywhere, as long as there’s a window for ventilation,” I said casually.

Alden sighed in relief, happy that I, the real daughter, wasn’t difficult. “Then pick any room you like, except Mom and Dad’s. I’ll get your room ready tomorrow,” he said.

Celia, still looking pitiful, said, “I can help arrange a room for Sherrie too.”

Alden ignored her and said to me, “I have a meeting at the company this afternoon. If anything comes up, we’ll deal with it after I get back.”

“Got it,” I replied, continuing to sprawl on the sofa.

Alden shook his head, seemingly helpless about my laziness. He quickly left. It seemed he had an important position at the company.

After he left, Celia came over and said, “Sherrie, let me show you a good room. You’ll love it.”

“Okay,” I said, dragging myself off the couch reluctantly.

If I could strip naked and lie in the living room, I would have stayed. I really didn’t want to move.

As for Celia being so eager, I knew she was up to something, but I wasn’t going to stress about it.

Sure enough, she took me to a room on the second floor.

The room was very clean, with a faint orchid scent. Everything was neatly arranged. It was obvious the owner had a cleanliness obsession and OCD.

From what I’d observed, the one with OCD in this house was probably Alden.

Sure enough, I soon found Alden’s photo on the desk.

I gave Celia a sideways glance, thinking, “Seriously? You think I'm too dumb to realize this is Alden's room?”

But Celia just smiled like nothing was off and said, “If you like it here, feel free to rest.”

“Okay.” I nodded.

I knew she was trying to set me up, but I honestly wasn’t in the mood to go room hunting. All I wanted was a hot shower and a bed to crash into.

Celia giggled and quickly slipped out, like she was scared I’d suddenly change my mind.

I took a shower and then collapsed onto the bed.

Sometime after dark, I was woken by the sound of light coughing.

Alden was standing beside the bed in a sharp black suit, his expression cold and unreadable—like he was waiting for an explanation.

Celia whispered beside him, “I’m sorry, Alden, but there was nothing I could do. Sherrie insisted on staying in your room. I told her about your OCD, but she just wouldn’t listen.”

Alden stayed silent for a while before finally asking, “You comfortable?”

I honestly thought he was going to be mad, especially after how hard Celia had been trying to stir things up.

I rubbed my eyes, nodded seriously and said, “Yeah. The aromatherapy helps me sleep.”

Alden gave me a surprised look, like he didn’t expect me to even know that aromatherapy helps with sleep. Then he said, coolly, “Alright. You can stay then.”

Celia, seeing this, said a little pitifully, “You always get mad whenever I step into your room, but now you're letting Sherrie stay here? Why?” 

Alden ignored her completely. Instead, he turned to me with a soft smile and asked, “Are you hungry?”

I nodded, adding, “But I don’t feel like getting out of bed.”

“I’ll bring something up for you,” he said, nodding and then left.

Celia stared wide-eyed, gritting her teeth. “Why?! You just got back and he's already treating you like this? He’s a clean freak, but he’s letting you sleep in his bed, even letting you eat on it. Why?!”

I couldn't be bothered to answer. I pulled out my phone and started scrolling through videos.

Celia stood there looking like a total clown, but she still didn't leave. She clearly wanted to see for herself how I was going to eat on Alden’s bed.

Before long, Alden came back, pushing a food cart.

There was a little tray attached to the cart that could unfold into a table. I sluggishly sat up, rinsed my mouth out first and then dug into the food. Alden went over to the desk to work on his laptop, completely ignoring me.

Celia came over and picked up the juice from the cart.

I knew she was up to something — most likely planning to spill it on the bed and then run to Alden, crying about how rude I was to dirty his bed, knowing full well he had OCD.

I didn't know exactly how Alden would react, but one thing was certain: if she managed to pull it off, I’d definitely be kicked out of this room.

I really didn’t want to move.

So I picked up my phone and pointed it right at her.

The second before she could throw the juice, she froze, plastered a fake smile on her face and handed it to me instead. “A glass of juice, Sherrie? Here.” 

“No, thanks.” I glanced over at Alden and coincidentally, he looked over at me, too.

In that brief eye contact, I noticed something — his eyes were beautiful. He had gaze so deep like he could see right through everything.

“Celia, you’ve got finals coming up. Shouldn't you be studying?” Alden said.

Celia's mouth twitched. She knew he was kicking her out, so she had no choice but to leave.

After I finished eating, the housekeeper came in to clean up.

Then I went back to my routine — coding with one hand, scrolling my phone with the other.

Before I realized it, three hours had passed. I started feeling sleepy again.

I decided to take a shower and then go back to bed.

Just as I was getting up, Alden finished his work. He came over, set a bottle of pills down on the nightstand and said, “Herbal supplement — good for brain.”

“Thanks,” I replied, a bit puzzled.

I looked at him suspiciously. How did he even know I needed brain supplements? But he had already left the room. I couldn’t be bothered to ask. I went to shower, took the supplement and fell asleep quickly.

The next few days, I barely left the room.

Celia tried to cause trouble a few times, but failed miserably.

Meanwhile, Alden continued working from the room every day, but we hardly spoke.

Until one day, I was still asleep when suddenly my blanket was ripped off.

Startled awake, I saw my biological parents standing there — and it was my father who had yanked the covers off me.

“How could you sleep here?!” he shouted.

“Sherrie, Alden may be our adopted brother, but you still have to watch your behavior. If people find out the real Spencer daughter came home only to sleep in her brother’s room, what kind of scandal would that be? The Spencer Family's reputation isn’t something you can just ruin like that!” Celia chimed in, adding fuel to the fire.

Mom broke down in tears, sobbing as if the world was ending. “Oh God, what sin have I committed to have a daughter like this? I don’t want to live anymore!”

Dad turned his fury back at me. “You’re supposed to be focusing on your studies right now! How could you let your mind be filled with such improper thoughts? Get up this instant!”

I lazily pulled the blanket back over myself and tapped on my phone a few times.

The room lights turned off and the projector flickered on. It started playing surveillance footage — from the moment Celia led me into this room up until now.

I didn’t feel like talking, but I wasn’t about to let them falsely accuse me either.

Dad and Mom exchanged a quick glance, their expressions stiffening when they saw the footage.

Still, Dad muttered with a frown, “Your sister brought you here to give you a better environment, but you should know how to behave properly too!”

Mom sighed dramatically, “Raised in the countryside after all—no manners. No sense of propriety.”

At that point, it was pretty clear: they didn’t care about right or wrong. They just didn’t like me. But if they didn’t like me, why bother dragging me back here?

I felt a surge of helplessness, but honestly, I didn’t see the point in arguing.

Thankfully, Alden came back in time and helped defuse the situation for me.

As they were leaving the room, I overheard Dad mutter some nasty things, something along the lines of, “You better behave yourself. Don’t ruin your reputation — you're supposed to marry into another wealthy family for us. If your reputation’s shot, you’ll be worthless.”

I caught a glimpse of Alden’s profile as he heard that — completely expressionless, almost like he was dead inside.

Later, they called me down for dinner.

At the table, Mom and Dad sat with Celia right in the middle, looking for all the world like a happy little family.

Celia was her usual charming self, saying all the right things to make them smile.

Meanwhile, they kept shooting me disappointed looks, then turning to Celia with relief, like they were constantly comparing us.

Suddenly, Celia piped up, “Sherrie, did you go to school back in the countryside?”

“Graduated,” I answered lazily.

Dad frowned. “You and Celia are the same age. She's still a senior in high school. How are you already graduated? What exactly did you study?”

“Computer science and welding,” I said honestly.

Dad slammed his hand on the table. “A Spencer learning welding? That’s so beneath us!”

Mom quickly chimed in, “Celia is a senior at St. Harrington Academy, the best high school in the city. She has a real shot at Cornell or Columbia. You can tag along for half a year. Even if you don’t get into a good college, your father and I will donate a building or two—at least you’ll have a diploma to your name.”

“But I’ve already graduated.”

I wanted to tell them that I had graduated from the youth program at MIT — that I’d already started working and that this trip home was just a short visit before I had to return to work.

But my job is highly classified. The kind of thing I literally can’t talk about, even if I wanted to.

And honestly, I was too lazy to explain.

Dad slammed the table again, yelling, “Still talking back? That’s it — you’re enrolling at St. Harrington Academy tomorrow!”

Oh wow. So now they were just trying to re-educate me?

And if I remembered correctly, back when I graduated from MIT, I had even visited St. Harrington Academy to give a guest lecture.

Man, I couldn’t wait to see the look on their principal’s face when I showed up as a student.

Just then, the guests arrived.

It was a family of three. The man and woman were middle-aged, well-dressed and carried themselves like they were important. With them was a younger woman, around Alden’s age — pretty, but her face was pale and her eyes were sunken.

She looked like someone who’d been drained dry by a little too much partying — alcohol and sex, most likely.

I also noticed that Alden’s expression turned very ugly when he saw that woman.

A marriage candidate, perhaps?

By then, the two sides had already exchanged greetings. The middle-aged man and woman seemed to be very fond of Celia. The woman, however, kept staring at Alden, occasionally licking her lips in a very lewd way.

Seeing that I hadn’t gotten up, dad frowned and said, “This is Sherrie Lutz, our daughter. But she’ll soon be changing her last name to ours. She was abducted when she was little and we just got her back from the countryside not long ago. Pardon if she has no manner.”

Then, he demanded that I greet them.

I tossed out a half-hearted greeting, realizing they were the Norris Family.

Celia quickly added, “Sherrie, this lady is going to be our future sister-in-law.”

I glanced at the sleazy woman, then at Alden, who looked deathly pale, before finally standing up.

Alden seemed to glance at me and in his eyes, I thought I caught a flicker of pleading.

I walked over to Alden, cupped his face and kissed him squarely on the lips.