The Child Who Wasn’t

My mind went blank, and I could only nod frantically. "It was all nonsense! I made it up!"

Phoebe finally loosened her grip on the knife. I snatched it from her and hurled it across the room.

Brandon, pale with fear, stood trembling as he clutched his phone. "911, emergency…"

His voice shook as he hung up, then rage overtook him. He stormed toward me, slapped me hard to the ground, and shouted, "Are you satisfied now? Maisie fakes being sick, and you spout madness… Together, you've turned this house into hell!"

Without another glance at the unconscious Maisie, he scooped up the blood-soaked Phoebe and ran out the door.

I crawled desperately to Maisie's side, noticing that her small face had turned completely pale.

Just a few days ago, she had been bouncing around, dragging me out to go shopping. When we passed the toy store, she kept begging me for a claw machine as her birthday present.

Now she could only lie limply in my arms, barely breathing.

Maisie fell into a coma. After examining her, the doctor gave me the answer I already knew in my heart: everything was normal.

I was in a daze when Maisie's scream jolted me awake. She mumbled a few words afterward, apparently having a nightmare. Just as I closed my eyes, she suddenly straightened her legs and screamed continuously.

I jumped up and stumbled into the bathroom, where the strong smell of alcohol hit my nostrils.

The bathtub was filled with rubbing alcohol, and Phoebe was lying completely submerged in it. Her fresh wounds had turned white and swollen from soaking, while the bandages had been thrown in the trash.

I broke down, dragging her from the tub and dropping to my knees. "Please, let Maisie go. Whatever you want, I'll give you. Or transfer all the pain to me… Just spare Maisie. I'll take it all."

She simply said calmly, "I want you to be my mother."

I looked up in despair, but my gaze stopped at Phoebe's chest.

That was when I understood what was going on.

I wiped away my tears and stood up laughing, leaving the bewildered Phoebe behind me. I secretly sneered. 'Phoebe, I know your secret now… You want to be my daughter? I'll send you to hell first!'

Maisie's birthday was just a week away, and I absolutely could not let Phoebe succeed. The next morning, I took Maisie and boarded a plane to a foreign country.

As soon as we landed, I received a call from Brandon. "Why didn't you take Phoebe on your vacation? Even if she's adopted, you can't be this biased."

I smirked coldly. "We'll prepare a big surprise for her. Next week is Maisie's birthday, remember to…"

After that, I decisively hung up the phone and continued on with an excited Maisie.

…

On the night of Maisie's birthday, I walked into the restaurant right on time. All the decorations were just how Maisie liked them, exactly as I remembered.

When Brandon saw me walk in alone, his face soured. "Where's Maisie? Is she throwing another tantrum? It's her birthday!"

I smiled lightly and waved to the others. "Go ahead and eat, don't wait on us. Tonight, I'll cut the cake on her behalf."

Brandon wanted to argue, but under the watchful eyes of the guests, he bit his tongue and stepped aside.

Phoebe's gaze flickered nervously toward me, and I knew she must have learned our true destination from Brandon. After a long silence, she asked tentatively, "Where did Maisie go?"

"Of course, to where she truly belongs," I replied.

Phoebe's expression grew even more troubled. I looked at my watch, noticing it was almost time. I walked forward, cut a piece of cake, and handed it to Phoebe.

In my previous life, when Maisie and I both died tragically, this was exactly the piece of cake Phoebe had been holding.

Phoebe took it with confusion. The next second, she suddenly looked up and stared at me, her eyes filled with terror. Then, she immediately collapsed to the floor, rolling around and screaming in agony.

The cake was knocked to the ground, and the party setup was ruined.

Phoebe struggled to reach out to me for help. "H-Help me…"

The sudden turn of events caught Brandon completely off guard. He glared at me coldly and shouted, "What did you do to her?"