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Who Really Is the True Heiress? Novel Cover

Who Really Is the True Heiress?

Caught in a cycle of death, two girls struggle to claim their place as the true heiress. The protagonist’s first life ended in betrayal when her parents murdered her following a blood test. In her second life, she watched Yvette suffer an equally gruesome fate, her body left drained in the wild. Now reborn once more, both survivors recognize the horrific patterns of their pasts. This mystery story follows their choice to abandon the inheritance and escape their family together.
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Chapter 3

I was lost in thought when a ridiculous idea suddenly popped into my head. Before I could think it through, Yvette yanked me back into the room.

“So? Did you find out anything?"

"She said there’s no rush to take us for the DNA test.”

She rolled her eyes when she heard me. There was a mix of cluelessness and innocence on her face.

Yvette had yanked me so hard that it hurt. Only after forcing my way free did I speak, feeling annoyed. “What, are you trying to see who can survive longer? I suggest you focus. We’re both in the same boat. At this rate, we’ll both end up dead!”

Yvette scratched her head and smiled sheepishly at me. “No, I know you’re smarter than me, but I’m just anxious! You lived a few days longer than I did in our previous life. I died that same day…”

Then, she turned her face away awkwardly. “And even though we argue and fight, I never intended to actually hurt you. At most… I just wanted to annoy you a little.”

I shot her a glance, sighed, and gave a helpless, wry smile.

“I didn’t get much out of Mrs. Grant. She’s soft-hearted, but there are still ways to prod her. Try to get more info from her for the next few days. I’ll look for clues from Mr. Grant.”

Yvette hesitated for a moment, worried, but eventually nodded.

…

That night, I knocked on Mr. Grant’s study door.

“Dad, I wanted to ask when Yvette and I will go for a DNA test?”

After getting his consent, I stepped inside without looking away. The study was brightly lit, but the decor immediately made me feel suffocated. Antique trinkets and medieval ornaments filled the room. It felt eerie just standing here.

Mr. Grant seemed busy with paperwork, typing away on the computer while holding a book in a language I could not read. He asked without looking up, “Are you in a hurry?”

I pressed my lips together, pretending to be timid. “I-I’m afraid I’m not your child and will be sent back to the orphanage, living a life without parents who love me…”

Mr. Grant finally spared me a glance after he heard me, as though I was supposed to look this anxious and fearful. “You’ll be fine. Stay home, don’t go anywhere. We’ll take you to the hospital tomorrow.”

I nodded in agreement and was about to leave the study when Mr. Grant called out to me, casually asking. “I remember you and Yvette share the same birthday. Do you remember what time you were born?”

His question sparked a bold idea in my mind. I swallowed hard and spoke, pretending to be unsure.

“Few children in the orphanage remember their birthdays. Ms. Hovard told me I was abandoned at the orphanage's gate, with a note in my cradle stating my birthday. But the exact time… I don’t know.

“And I have no idea why Yvette shares the same birthday.”

Mr. Grant did not seem disappointed by my answer. He simply waved me off.

However, as I turned to leave, my eyes were suddenly drawn to a corner cabinet.

Mr. Grant was too sharp, so I could not linger without raising his suspicions. I had no choice but to memorize everything I saw as quickly as possible. Then, I pushed Yvette’s room door open.

“Tomorrow’s the DNA test. You’ll go first. You’re definitely not their real daughter, so you need to let them wait for your results before I go.”

“What?! DNA test? Tomorrow? I thought we could stall them a bit. How did it become tomorrow?!” Yvette jumped up from the bed, shocked and confused.

I locked eyes with her, and my tone was serious. “Answer me. Can you do it?”

When she reluctantly nodded, I finally let out a sigh of relief.

Yvette still looked bewildered. “Queenie, what are you planning?”

I recalled the layout of the study and the strange things in the cabinet in my mind. Piece by piece, the final clue to this bizarre adoption puzzle clicked into place.

“I know which one of us is the real Grant heiress…”

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