The Double ( or More ?) Life of The Fake Heiress

Summer pondered for a few seconds after hearing the suggestion. She lifted her gaze towards Mandy and asked, “Mom, doesn’t Dad have some connections at the Education Association?”

Mandy paused, a flicker of recognition crossing her face before she nodded, “Yeah, he and the chairman often meet up for coffee, I mentioned your competition to your dad a while back, but I’m not sure if he’s talked about you to anyone.”

After a brief pause, Mandy reached for her smartphone on the coffee table. “Hold on a sec. I’ll give your dad a call and ask.” NôvelDrama.Org content.

Summer smiled sweetly, nodding obediently, her fingers rhythmically tapping on her knees.

Mandy ended the call shortly and looked up at her daughter, “Your dad said to focus on the competition. He’s mentioned you to his friend, even boasted about your knack for the sciences, and he’s looking for an opportunity to get you under the wing of a renowned tutor in Riverdale.” At the mention of Riverdale, Summer’s eyes lit up with immense surprise. Riverdale was a breeding ground for talent. Securing a foothold there meant not having to worry about the likes of Mirabella or having to rely on the Gilberts.

With this thought, the gloom that had clouded Summer’s evening dissipated. She let out a silent sigh of relief, stood up, and sat down beside Mandy, affectionately wrapping her arms around her mother’s. “Mom, thank you and Dad for everything. You’re so good to me. I’ll work hard, I promise. I won’t let you down.”

Mandy looked down at her dutiful daughter, the polar opposite of the irksome foster child, and couldn’t help but smile with relief, patting her arm gently. “Thank goodness you’re my own flesh and blood.”

Summer rested her head on Mandy’s shoulder and nuzzled in, the shadows in her eyes hidden away, saying nothing more.

**

The following day, the senior class at Parkside High School faced their first monthly exam of the semester. Everyone, except Mirabella, seemed to be carrying the weight of nervousness and fear towards the tests. Right before entering the exam hall, most students were frantically flipping through textbooks, the epitome of last–minute cramming.

The school had a dedicated examination hall, and this monthly test seemed exceptionally strict. Each room was fitted with detection devices that weeded out students attempting to smuggle in phones or cheat sheets. It was clear that cheating was off the table.

Although Mirabella had participated in the BrainSpark Nationals and excelled twice, her newness at the school meant her exam seat was allocated based on the previous term’s grades. For fairness, she was placed in the last exam room. The bottom thirty scorers of the senior year were all her company in that room.

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As Mirabella entered the exam hall, the seated students turned their curious eyes towards her. By now, her competition achievements were common knowledge throughout the senior class. While some still whispered doubts about her merits, they were a minority. Some even speculated that the sudden

monthly exam was the school’s attempt to quell the rumors of Mirabella’s alleged cheating and preferential treatment by placing her in the last exam room.

Unaware of these murmurs, Mirabella found her seat at the very end of the last row, isolated from the rest, as if deliberately segregated. The distinction was pretty evident.

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