After the real heiress of the King family returned, I became a female tramp.

The once spoiled young heiress was reduced to snatching food from wild dogs and scavenging meals from trash bins.

Luckily, my disfigured face and missing arm scared others away from fighting me for scraps.

"Ah! She's not wearing pants! Shameless!"

I laughed. What's dignity compared to filling my stomach?

I dug a pink cake from the garbage and crammed it into my mouth.

Only when nearly finished did I notice the man before me.

He stared at me, stunned.

"I must be insane—mistaking a tramp for Deborah."

He turned and dialed his wife, his voice dripping with tenderness.

I swallowed the last bite with tears.

My life should end now.

I had walked two years just to see him one last time.

Yet this glimpse felt utterly meaningless.

* * *

This cake tasted heavenly. It'd keep me full for three days.

Lying on the steps, I burped loudly.

The man pointed at me, his eyes blank. "Matthew, take her to the shelter. Help her find family."

Matthew squatted before me, scanning me head to toe. "Michael, she's roamed here for years. Last year, I saw her sleeping with homeless men."

"Should we really help trash like this?"

Long accustomed to such disgust, I shoved my hair back and lunged at him. He stumbled backward.

The man froze, then frowned and shook his head. "Forget it."

"Just kick her out. Don't let her tarnish the White group's image."

"Deborah hurt Michelle and fled abroad after stealing from the King family safe. This tramp can't be her."

His icy stare mirrored the Michael from my memories. His tenderness surfaced only for Michelle.

Heart souring, I gripped a pillar and hobbled out before Matthew spoke.

Matthew retreated behind Michael. "Michelle's prenatal checkup is in an hour. Go straight to the hospital or fetch your wife first?"

"Michelle hates your driving. I'll get her." Michael's voice softened, indulgent.

"Married three years, becoming a mom next month—still acting like a spoiled child. Wonder who enabled that."

Ear throbbing, I froze. My gaze fixed on the 'M&D' tattoo on my wrist. We got this after our engagement party.

Four years changed everything. They're married with a child now.

Tears spilled uncontrollably.

Two years walking thousands of miles back to Dallas. Another two years lingering nearby, begging for one distant glimpse.

Now my wish is fulfilled. I hold no greater regrets.

Nearby, Matthew nodded. "I'll pick you up at two."

Michael took the car keys and headed to the parking lot.

Noticing me still rooted, he shot me a sidelong glare. "Why isn't she gone yet?"

Matthew strode over, voice sharpening. "What? Want me to call security to beat you out?"

"These homeless people are either lazy moochers or organized beggars. The White group isn't someone you can mess with."

As Matthew approached me, patrolling guards rushed over too.

"That's her! Last time she tried stealing keys from the guard station."

"Get her out fast."

Rubber batons thwacked against my body.

I buried my face between knees, cradling my head with one hand. Just endure until they vent their anger, then I can leave.

But one guard had different plans.

He kicked my amputated limb, stomping on my three-fingered hand.

"We gotta break this arm to teach you a lesson."

"Boys! Do it! I'll take responsibility!"

Knowing what came next, I cast Michael one last glance before closing my eyes in despair.

Michael, we won't meet in the next life.

Yet the expected pain never came.

Matthew's shout of "Stop!" echoed as someone grabbed my wrist.

Michael yanked me forward, demanding coldly:

"Where did you get that 'M&D' tattoo?"

With my disfigured face, I bit down hard on my lip.

Tell him I'm that spoiled, unruly little devil Deborah everyone used to sigh over? Using my status as the only daughter of the King Family, I forced Michael into a marriage alliance.

Then I drugged him and got matching tattoos with him. Waited for him to sober up just to watch him rage.

Now, seeing me as a homeless woman, he must feel satisfied, right?

His grip on my wrist hurt like hell. I tried to break free but couldn't. Just then, Michael's phone rang.

I pointed at his pants pocket. He kept staring at me, unmoving.

Until Matthew answered the call.

"Madam, Michael's downstairs at the company. He'll pick you up soon for your prenatal checkup."

Must've been Michelle calling.

The ice in Michael's eyes thawed. He released my wrist, looking down at me. "Take her to the shelter. Check her background."

"Tell me immediately when you find anything."

My gaze stayed fixed where he'd left, lingering long after.

Matthew worked fast. Within half an hour, I was settled at the shelter with a private room.

After I cleaned up, Matthew and a doctor walked in.

The doctor studied my facial scars and sighed. "Who did this girl cross? These wounds look at least three years old."

"A sharp blade cut down to the bone. Plus she scars easily. Fixing her face will be near impossible."

Even Matthew, who'd seen it all, covered his mouth to gag.

The doctor moved to my right, rolled up the empty sleeve, and shone a light on the stump. "Right arm hacked off, probably with a cleaver or similar."

"But clearly an amateur—or a dull blade. That's why there are multiple chop marks with flesh torn ragged."

I lowered my eyes with a bitter smile.

Michelle—who'd never harmed a fly—complained my bones were too tough. Chopped over a dozen times before it severed.

Still call her an amateur?

Matthew cursed under his breath. "Goddammit, people still this vicious nowadays?"

"Not just that. Look here." The doctor pinched my chin, flashlight beam in my mouth. "Her tongue's half gone. Can't speak."

"Girl, who the hell did you anger?"

"To end up like this?"

Their pitying stares hurt worse than death.

After Michelle was found, DNA tests proved she was the King Family's only true daughter.

Me? Just a servant's child swapped at birth by some wicked maid. Everyone who'd once feared me showed up together.

Michelle pointed at my right arm, giggling. "Daxi, she slapped you with this arm?"

"Relax, I chopped it off for you."

Her friend used pliers to crush my tongue.

As I howled, Michelle poured grain alcohol over my face. "Every scream gets you a new cut."

"You stole Michael? I'll steal your place as the King heiress."

"Deborah, you owe me this."

Three days and nights of torture flooded my mind. I shook uncontrollably, teeth chattering.

The doctor pulled a sedative from his bag and injected me.

The moment I calmed down, they tied my arms and inserted the needle.

"She's emotionally unstable and can't speak."

"I'll draw blood for a DNA match. Results usually come back within three days."

I lay in bed half-asleep. In my daze, it felt like I was back at the King estate.

After Michelle broke my leg, she threw me into the basement. I couldn't make a sound, forced to listen to their happy family life.

On the fifth day of my disappearance, Christine pushed Michelle's wheelchair to the stairwell, whispering, "Why hasn't Deborah come home all week? Didn't you two return together after going out?"

Michelle spread her hands, feigning innocence. "Mom, you know Deborah's always been aloof. She never meshed with my friends."

"We hadn't been at my friend's house long before she left claiming urgent business. Probably off fooling around with someone these days?"

Christine frowned, concern in her voice. "That doesn't sound right. Deborah may be wild, but she's filial. She'd never stay out overnight."

She tried to press further, but Timothy cut her off. "Why bother with that disgraceful daughter?"

"I just opened the safe upstairs—all the cash and over a dozen gold bricks are gone!"

"Isn't it obvious who stole them?"

"And look at Michelle's leg! A National Ballet Company member, pushed down the stairs by that wretch!"

"Michelle will never dance again! Yet you worry about her? I wish she'd rot out there!"

The last shred of Christine's worry vanished under Timothy's curses.

She gritted her teeth. "My fault entirely! The moment I noticed she didn't resemble me, I should've secretly done a paternity test."

"After all Michelle suffered with that maid, Deborah deserves the same."

"That girl's heart is as black as her birth mother's! Ungrateful! Utterly vile!"

Pressed against the door crack, I listened to their accusations of my "black heart." No physical pain could compare to this heartbreak.

Watching me lie motionless like a dead fish, Michelle beamed. "Deborah, Mom and Dad agreed to let me marry Michael."

"Thanks for tossing out my gifts to him. After you left, he came begging for my forgiveness."

"Thanks to you, we slept together that very night."

My eyes burned crimson as I slowly turned my head. Lips parted, but no words came.

Michelle's smile turned triumphant. She stomped on my two fingers. Agony shot through my scalp. I gasped, struggling.

Those items I'd seen in Michael's office lounge—she'd planted them all.

When I asked Michael their origin, he'd answered calmly, "Jealous? A sponsored student gave them. Take them if you like."

My possessiveness over Michael ran deep.

During his meeting, I trashed every gift not from me.

He merely glanced at the cleared desk upon returning. "You actually tossed them? How petty."

Back then, I truly believed he didn't care.

Michelle saw the despair in my eyes. Lifting her foot, she raised a hammer over my twisted fingers. "Don't blame me."

"You forced him into that engagement!"

"We were this close to becoming lovers. It's all your fault! Your fault! YOUR FAULT!"

Michelle's face contorted, swelling monstrously before me.

I opened my eyes abruptly, gasping for breath.

Luckily, it was just a dream.

Hearing movement on the bed, Matthew stood up, his brow furrowed. "Michael, she's awake."

"Do you plan to come over and ask about the tattoo again?"

On the phone, Michael glanced at Michelle looking in the mirror.

He loosened his tie. "Text me when the comparison results come out."

"Tomorrow's my wife's birthday – I need to focus on her."

Hearing Michael's voice, my heart sank a little. Even after four years, Michelle was still the one he cared about most.

Since my wish came true, it was time to leave.

Matthew hung up and looked at me, "Stay here and rest."

"We'll send you home once we find your family."

I lowered my head without answering. Only after Matthew drove off did I throw back the covers.

Michelle's birthday bash was huge – announced online three days early.

Now the TV looped clips from her wedding day with Michael.

Timothy held Michelle's hand, placing it in Michael's. "Michelle's my only daughter."

"You must cherish her, love her, protect her – always."

Michael gazed at her tenderly, their fingers laced tight. "Don't worry, Dad. I love Michelle."

"She's the woman I'll love most in this lifetime."

Christine hugged Michelle, refusing to let go. Timothy patted her shoulder, voice gentle. "Stop crying – she's not leaving forever."

"Their new place is right next door! You can see her anytime."

Christine nodded, eyes red-rimmed.

Michael looked at Michelle with pure devotion. He brushed hair from her face and kissed her deeply. "I love you, Michelle."

I stood street-side, peering up at the happy four like a sewer rat.

Timothy used to worry I'd get bullied –he taught me to fight dirty; Christine screened suitors for me since my debut ball.

And Michael, my childhood shield, never let anyone hurt me.

Now Michelle owned it all.

I banged my fist against my temple, shattering memories.

Wiping tears, I paced streets Michael and I once walked. Finally stopped at the bridge.

Climbed the railing, stared at the rising tide. Wind whipped my hair, numbing the ache inside.

At least after four years, I got my birthday cake.

One last look toward the White estate – I jumped.

"Goodbye, Michael."

* * *

At the same time, the lab comparison results arrived. Seeing my face flash onscreen, the doctor panicked.

He dialed Matthew three times before connecting. Blurted without waiting, "Results confirm it's Deborah."

Matthew's heart lurched. He shoved the door open.

But the room stood empty.

Knowing what might happen, Matthew sped toward the Whites.

He called Michael ten times en route before he picked up. "Matthew, this better be life-or-death."

Matthew swallowed hard, voice shaking. "Michael, the results are in."

"That's Deborah King, the Deborah King you've been searching for."

"But I just went to the shelter looking for her, and she's gone."

"And the paternity test results..."