My Weight Loss, Her Meltdown

I struggled down the stairs, each step heavy and labored. When I finally reached the first floor, I saw Freya standing in front of a mirror, screaming in terror.

Freya was the real daughter of the Graham family. In my previous life, although she had been slim, she still maintained a normal weight and looked nowhere as ridiculously thin as she was now. Presently, she looked more like someone who had been maltreated for a long time.

She whipped around and glared at me fiercely, her eyes blazing with rage. "Dakota Graham, have you been exercising and trying to lose weight every day? Who allowed you to do that?"

When I heard her question, all the pieces in my mind suddenly clicked into place.

No wonder Walter and Ingrid never wanted me to lose weight and were always stopping me from exercising. Even when I had gotten so obese I could barely walk, they still insisted I was perfectly normal.

And after two weeks of trying to lose weight, I hadn't lost even an ounce. Instead, my weight just kept climbing and climbing. It turned out that all the weight I had worked so hard to lose had actually been taken off Freya!

She had swapped our constitutions. However, there was always a price to pay. All the fat she gained ended up on my body, but any weight I managed to lose would come off hers.

Once I understood the truth, a cold smile crept up my lips. Without any warning, I raised my hand and slapped Freya hard across the face.

Staring at her through narrowed eyes, I spat in disdain, "Who do you think you are? Do you really think I need to report everything to you just because the Grahams adopted you?"

With the extra weight of my body adding power to the blow, that single slap left Freya's left cheek swollen, and a few of her teeth had even loosened.

She seemed completely stunned by the slap and couldn't react for a long moment.

And honestly, that was fair. All these years, I had always been gentle and mild. I had never bullied or insulted anyone the way other young heiresses might. And because of that, Freya had truly believed that despite being the daughter of the Graham family, I was a pushover.

Just then, Walter and Ingrid, having heard the commotion, hurried down from upstairs. When they saw how swollen Freya's face was, they were both startled.

I let out a cold laugh and accused Freya first, "Mom, Dad, Freya doesn't know her place, so I taught her a lesson. I think we should kick her out of the Graham family. I can't stand the sight of her."

Hearing this, Freya finally snapped out of it. Her eyes turned red as she burst into loud, heart-wrenching sobs. She looked at Walter and Ingrid with a pitiful, tearful expression, her tear-filled eyes full of sorrow. "I didn't do anything. Dakota hit me for no reason."

Seeing the pleading gaze she fixed on Walter and Ingrid, silently begging them to punish me, I smiled scornfully. Then, right in front of them, I slapped her again. This time I put all my strength into it, releasing almost every ounce of resentment and frustration I had from both this life and the last.

Walter and Ingrid could only watch Freya with pained expressions. But since I was the one who was supposed to be their real daughter now, they couldn't exactly do anything about it.

In the end, Walter could only clear his throat lightly and try to reason with me gently. "Dakota, Freya is still young. She might not have handled some things perfectly, but don't be too hard on her. Try to cut her some slack. After all, she's just a young lady trying hard to earn a living."

I sneered inwardly. At the end of the day, Freya was his flesh and blood. Naturally, he would protect her. I also knew that getting Walter and Ingrid to kick Freya out was impossible. After all, she was their real daughter. Besides, only by keeping her right under my nose could I truly make her suffer.

So, I smiled and nodded in agreement with Walter. "You're right, Dad. If Freya's real parents happen to be suffering from some terminal illness, kicking her out now would be pushing her whole family straight toward death!"

Walter's and Ingrid's expressions turned sour the moment the words left my mouth. My remark was practically jinxing them right to their faces. But they couldn't exactly lash out, so they had no choice but to swallow their anger.

Just as the atmosphere grew increasingly tense, hurried footsteps sounded from outside the door.

Moments later, a tall, lean man appeared in the living room.

My fiance, Jonah Peckett, furrowed his brows and asked in a soft, gentle tone. "What's going on today? Why does everyone look so miserable?"

I looked at him with delight, thinking that someone who would finally side with me had arrived.

But before I could even take a step toward him, I heard Jonah's voice, now laced with anger, asking, "Freya, how did you get that bruise on your face?"