Ficorpio
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
The woman in the bed beside mine switched her baby with me.
My mother was awake. I knew she was. But she never opened her eyes. She only turned away and let two tears slide down her face.
“Baby, don’t blame me.”
“In my last life, I brought you back home, and Sienna—that foolish child—ran away because she didn’t want to make things hard for us. She died in a car accident.”
“Your foster parents are decent people. In this life, all I want is for both children to be safe.”
I sucked quietly on my tongue and said nothing.
She really did know how to sound like a mother now.
But in my last life, after Sienna died, Vanessa Cross pinned every bit of blame on me.
She got behind the wheel herself and ran over my leg, shattering it. Then she refused to get me treatment.
Only after I died did she hold my body and sob.
“I only wanted to punish you. I wanted you to atone for Sienna. I never thought…”
This time, I didn’t cry once—not until the day I was discharged from the hospital.
Because Mom, it wasn’t just that you didn’t want me.
I didn’t want to go back to you either.
On the second day after I was born, my foster parents, Hank and Linda Miller, were already impatient to get me discharged.
Linda wrapped me in a rough old blanket, her movements clumsy and too forceful, cinching it so tightly I could barely breathe.
From the bed beside ours, my biological mother, Vanessa Cross, leaned back against a stack of soft pillows and looked at me. A faint crease formed between her brows before she finally spoke.
“Are you really leaving this soon? The baby’s only two days old. It would be safer to keep her under observation a little longer.”
There was a tremor in her voice, slight enough that most people might have missed it.
A woman who had willingly abandoned her own child was showing concern now.
The contradiction was almost laughable.
Hank, of course, had no interest in untangling emotions that complicated.
He barked back in a harsh, irritated voice, all his temper spilling out at once.
“Not leave? You think we’ve got money to burn like you do?
“If the hospital hadn’t screwed up and moved us into this fancy room, we wouldn’t even be able to touch a place like this! One more day means one more bill, and we can’t afford it!”
The air in the room seemed to tighten.
Vanessa’s face went pale. Her lips parted, but no words came out.
And he was right.
This meeting in a shared maternity room had been a complete accident.
She had originally booked a private VIP suite on the top floor half a month in advance. But the day before she was admitted, a burst pipe had shut down the entire floor for emergency repairs.
The head nurse had come in person to apologize and tried everything she could, but in the end, the only available bed left was in this double room.
Vanessa had wanted to refuse. But when she heard it was the closest room to the neonatal ward, making it easier for her to visit the baby anytime, she reluctantly agreed.
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
As for Hank and Linda, they should have been downstairs in a standard six-bed recovery room.
They had scraped together the delivery and hospital fees by taking odd jobs wherever they could. Every dollar had to be stretched until it screamed.
But one of the women in their ward had suddenly come down with a high fever. To avoid cross-infection, the hospital had urgently moved them into the empty bed here.
The daily rate for this room was nearly half their monthly income.
Vanessa said nothing more. She quietly turned her face away and lowered her gaze to the baby in her arms.
She adjusted the way she held Sienna Cross with extraordinary care, as if she were cradling some priceless treasure, afraid even the slightest jostle might disturb her.
And me?
I lay in Linda’s arms, held carelessly, silent from beginning to end. I didn’t make a sound.
Just before we left, Vanessa finally couldn’t bear it. She pulled a pendant from her handbag, hurried over, and tucked it into my blanket. Her voice was stiff, unnatural.
“Take this for the baby. A keepsake, I guess. Since we happened to meet.”
Hank and Linda’s eyes lit up instantly.
They didn’t know fine jewelry, but even they could tell it was worth money.
The lines in Linda’s face practically bloomed with delight.
“Oh, no, you really shouldn’t… that’s far too generous…”
Her hands, however, were anything but polite. She was already reaching to snatch it away and put it somewhere safe.
The instant her fingertips brushed the pendant—
“Waaah—!”
I let out a sudden, piercing cry.
At the same time, my whole body jerked.
The pendant slipped free of the blanket.
Clack!
It hit the polished tile floor and shattered into several pieces.
My crying stopped, leaving only faint, hitching sobs.
Inside, all that surged through me was cold, bone-deep hatred.
Mom, don’t think you can buy forgiveness with some stupid family heirloom. Don’t think this erases the crime of pushing me away with your own hands, or gives you the right to sleep peacefully afterward.
The moment you chose Sienna, you threw me aside like I was nothing.
Hank exploded on the spot.
“Damn bad luck! Useless little burden!”
“Born to bleed us dry!”
He even raised a hand like he was about to hit me.
Linda hurriedly shielded me, but the look she gave me was full of disgust too.
Vanessa flinched and quickly stopped Hank’s hand, her voice shaking.
“It’s not the baby’s fault. I should’ve thought it through. Jewelry like that breaks easily.”
She was afraid Hank would really hurt me.
Even more than that, she was afraid he’d decide I wasn’t worth keeping and dump me somewhere.
Chapter 3
Chapter 3
She turned, grabbed two unopened cans of premium baby formula from the cabinet by the bed, along with a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills, and shoved them into Linda’s arms without giving her a chance to refuse.
“Take these. Buy the baby something good. The formula is top quality—it’ll be good for her.”
At the sight of the money and formula, Hank’s rage finally eased.
He bent down, picked up the broken pieces of the pendant, and stuffed them into his pocket, muttering under his breath, “Even broken, this has gotta be worth something.”
Linda gave an awkward little laugh and started toward the door with me in her arms.
Vanessa sat on the bed, her eyes following my retreating figure the entire time.
Just as we were about to step out of the room, she spoke again.
“Wait…”
Hank turned back impatiently.
“What now?”
Vanessa parted her lips. Her gaze passed over them and landed directly on my face.
For one breathless moment, I almost thought she regretted it.
I thought she might come rushing over, tear me from the arms of this crude couple, hold me tight, and tell me she couldn’t bear to let me go.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she held Sienna even closer, as if she wanted to press that child straight into her bones.
Her voice was so soft it was nearly drowned out by the rain against the window.
“The roads are slippery in this weather. Be careful.”
Hank gave a dismissive snort.
Then the door closed behind me.
And two worlds were sealed apart.
The rundown rental was thick with the stink of mildew and sour rot.
Hank Miller spat on the floor, pulled the wad of cash Vanessa Cross had given him at the hospital from his pocket, and counted it twice.
“That’s it? This barely passes for charity. Rich people are cheap as hell.”
Linda Miller dropped me onto a hard wooden cot, then leaned close to Hank and lowered her voice.
“Keep it down. We already switched the baby back. What do we do with this one now?”
“What do we do?” Hank snorted. “We sell her fast, that’s what. Why keep a useless little burden around? You want her growing up and taking our family’s money? I’m not raising somebody else’s kid. Especially not a girl.”
Linda looked at me, hesitating for a moment.
“Hank… maybe we keep her for now?”
His eyes widened. “Keep her? With what money? You think I’ve got cash to waste raising another man’s brat?”
“Why are you in such a rush?” Linda rolled her eyes at him. “Think about it. A girl’s useful when she grows up. She can cook, clean, do laundry. And once we have our son, she can help take care of her little brother. Besides, when she turns eighteen, we can marry her off. A dowry—”