Real Daughter's Revenge novel Chapter 8

I was scrolling through the comments when the door swung open.

Bernard walked in, carrying a small cake. “Happy birthday.”

I looked at him, surprised.

He seemed a little awkward. “Don’t get the wrong idea. Mom asked me to bring this up.”

The cake was tiny, with “Happy Birthday” written on top–no mention of my name.

“Thank you.” I took the cake from him.

He stood there, not leaving. “Aren’t you upset?”

“Why would I be?”

“Downstairs…”

“Downstairs is Lenny’s stage. What does that have to do with me?” I opened the box. “I don’t care about any of that.”

He frowned. “Can’t you act normal for once?”

I shot back, “Is throwing a fit and begging to join the party considered normal?”

He was at a loss for words.

“Bernard,” I looked up at him, “do you know why I applied for MIT?”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to rely on myself.”

I took a bite of the cake. It was sweet.

“I don’t need your charity, your pity, and certainly not your favors.

“I am a fully grown adult–a smart one, at that. I can carve out my own future.”

He stared at me, stunned.

0.00%

10:55

“So don’t look at me like I’m someone to be pitied.”

I smiled. “I’m Jessica Fraser. I’m not pitiful.”

He was silent for a long time before he finally spoke. “Do you hate us?”

I shook my head. “Hate requires some kind of emotional foundation. There’s nothing like that

between us.‘

That hit home.

His expression shifted, and he turned to leave.

At the door, he paused. “Jessica, you know, you’re almost too rational. Not at all like an 18–year- old girl.”

I gazed out the window. “I stopped being a girl when I was ten.

11

When I was ten, my adoptive father brought people home to gamble. He lost and shoved me out to pour drinks for them.

From that moment on, I knew I had to be rational, had to be strong.

Because no one else would protect me.

After Bernard left, I finished the little cake by myself.

It was sweet–almost sickeningly so.

The music downstairs played late into the night.

The next day, I moved into my dorm.

When I left, only the maid was home.

Nolan and Rhonda had taken Lena to the hospital–too much excitement last night, her heart was acting up.

Bernard was at the office.

Just as well. No need for goodbyes.

My dorm room was a quad, and I was the first to arrive.

Once I’d unpacked, I wandered over to the library.

30.14%

10:55

MIT’s library was enormous, with millions of books.

I found a quiet corner, pulled out my laptop, and started writing a new story.

This time, I wanted to write a happy ending for everyone.

Even if it doesn’t exist in reality, at least it can in words.

By evening, my phone rang.

It was Rhonda. “Jessie, where did you go? Why aren’t you at home?”

“I moved to campus.”

“What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Would you have cared if I did?”

She was silent on the other end.

I said, “Take good care of Lena. I’m doing fine.”

I hung up and went back to my writing.

When I returned to the dorm that night, my roommates had all arrived.

Three girls, all friendly.

One of them stared at me for a moment. “Aren’t you that Fraser girl…?”

“Yeah.” I knew what she was about to ask.

The entire story of my return had made headlines.

“Then why are you living on campus?” another roommate asked, curious.

“I’m not used to living at home.” I kept it simple.

They didn’t press and started chatting about other things.

I lay on my bed, listening to their conversation, feeling a sense of ease I hadn’t felt in ages.

Here, I was just Jessica, a freshman at MIT.

Not someone’s biological daughter, not anyone’s replacement.

65.41%