She was proud her daughter had done well for herself, but the cost of college tuition weighed on her. She simply couldn't afford it.

I understood how hard it was to raise a child alone, so I offered to cover her daughter's tuition for all four years.

Georgette was so moved she burst into tears. She gripped my hands, thanking me over and over, swearing she'd repay my kindness someday.

But starting last month, things changed.

I came home one day and found Cora Fox sitting in my living room.

I had no idea why she was there. Georgette pulled me aside and whispered an explanation:

"Miss Henson, my daughter has nowhere to go on weekends. I haven't seen her in so long, so I told her she could stay for a couple of days."

I nodded and let it go. The house had plenty of rooms. Letting a mother and daughter spend some time together wasn't a big deal.

But gradually, something started to feel off.

The "couple of days" turned into a standing appointment, every single weekend without fail. Every Friday evening, Cora showed up at my door like clockwork and didn't leave until Monday morning.

At first, she just liked posing for photos in the living room and posting them online, showing off to her classmates about living in a mansion. I could understand that. Everyone wants to look good in front of other people.

What I couldn't understand was the way Cora looked at me. Every single time, her eyes were full of disgust and contempt, as if I owed her millions.

A few times, while I was sitting on the couch watching TV, she would walk by, pinch her nose, and complain loudly: "God, this is so annoying. How does a place this nice always reek of poverty?"

I actually thought she'd smelled something off, so I reminded Georgette to give the house a thorough cleaning.

But Cora only escalated. She started dousing every spot I'd sat in with disinfectant spray. She laid disposable seat covers on the couch and made me sit on them. A few times, I caught her throwing things I'd used straight into the trash.

When I confronted Georgette, she always offered the same sheepish excuse in private: "Cora just worries those things aren't sanitary. She's looking out for your health, Miss Henson, so she's a little strict about it."

I didn't think much of it. Between school and managing the day-to-day operations of my family's company, I was stretched so thin I barely had the energy to eat, let alone argue with her over things like that.

Until this afternoon.

The moment I saw that note taped to the door, it all clicked into place. Cora thought I was the freeloader here.

I'd been ready to teach both Georgette and Cora a lesson. But Georgette threw herself into begging, one plea after another:

"Miss Henson, I swear, it will never happen again."

"I'll set Cora straight today. I won't let her come here anymore."

"Please, after all the years I spent taking care of your parents, forgive me this once."

I looked at her, hunched and pitiful, and sighed. "Forget it."

"I'm not pressing charges."

After the police left, Georgette let out a long breath of relief, thanking me so profusely it bordered on groveling.

From that day on, Cora really did stop coming to the house. Georgette kept working just as diligently as before, keeping every room spotless.

The only problem was that things kept going missing.

A bottle of wine one day. A set of silverware the next. A designer dress the day after that.

Every time I asked, Georgette had an excuse ready:

"I'm so sorry, Miss Henson. I accidentally knocked that bottle of wine over while I was cleaning."

"Miss, that dinnerware set was so old. I noticed cracks when I was washing it and worried it might cut you, so I went ahead and threw it out."

"Miss, I took that outfit to the dry cleaner's, and they ended up losing it."

Every excuse sounded a little thin, but Georgette's attitude was always apologetic enough that I let it slide.

I figured that was the end of it.

Until Memorial Day.

After visiting my parents' graves, I decided to drive out to the countryside estate they'd lived in for most of their lives and give it a proper cleaning.

It was their favorite place in the world. The garden was full of flowers my mother had cherished, and every room held souvenirs my father had brought back from his travels around the globe. Before she passed, my mother held my hand and told me that house was the work of her and my father's entire lifetime. She made me promise to take care of it.

I treasured that estate more than anything. Even though being there made my chest ache with memories, I still went back regularly after moving out on my own. I'd wipe down every piece of furniture by hand, trim the flowers and hedges in the garden. Every visit, without fail.

But this time, when I pulled up to the front gate, I froze.

The gate, which I always kept locked, was standing wide open.

From inside the estate came the muffled thud of music cranked to full volume and the raucous sound of laughter.

I rushed forward and pushed through the front door.

What I saw stopped me cold.

The living room was destroyed.

Empty liquor bottles, snack wrappers, fruit peels, sunflower-seed shells, and cigarette butts littered the coffee table, the couches, the floor. The leather sofa, worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, was pocked with burn marks where cigarettes had been ground into it, each one a charred black crater. My mother's beloved Persian rug was covered in footprints and stained with splatters of red wine. The keepsakes that had hung on the walls were either pulled down and used as photo props or smashed to pieces in the corners.

My fists clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms.

This was the home my parents had lived in for half their lives. Every piece of furniture, every single item on display, they had chosen with care. I normally tiptoed through these rooms, terrified of bumping into anything, of disturbing even a single object.

And now it had been trashed beyond recognition.

I scanned the room and found Cora sitting on the couch directly facing the entrance, surrounded by a crowd of our college classmates.

"Cora, your family is insanely rich! Even a random vacation house out in the suburbs is this luxurious."

"Seriously, I just looked it up. Any one of these paintings on the wall is worth millions!"

"God, your mom is unreal. No wonder she's the richest woman in the city, worth billions!"

"Hey, since we're all classmates, once you graduate and inherit everything, think you could get us jobs at your family's company?"

Cora's lips curled into a smug grin. "Easy. Stick with me, and none of you will ever have to worry about money again."

The whole group erupted into giddy laughter, falling over themselves to flatter her.

Then Cora spotted me standing in the doorway.

Her smile vanished. She rose and strode toward me, chin tilted high.

Crack.

Without a word, she slapped me across the face so hard my head snapped to the side.

"You broke little nobody. You actually followed me here?"

The slap came out of nowhere. I stood rooted to the spot, my cheek burning.

Every pair of eyes in the room went wide.

"Cora, what's going on?"

Cora jabbed a finger at me, her face twisted with disgust.

"This is Beulah Henson. The freeloading stray I was just telling you about."

"Mooching off my family's place in the city wasn't enough for her. Now she's trying to worm her way into the estate my mom just bought me."

I stared at Cora, disbelief rooting me in place.

"Who told you this was a house your mom bought you?"

Cora let out a sharp, scornful laugh.

"My mom told me herself, obviously."

"You shameless little parasite. You latched onto my mother because she's a CEO, didn't you? Living in our house rent-free, hovering around her every second, desperate for her attention."

"Mooching off us and manufacturing every chance you could to get her alone wasn't enough for you? Now you want to come defile my villa too?"

"Let me spell it out for you. My mom said the only reason she let you stay was because your parents are dead and she felt sorry for you. So don't push your luck and start dreaming you can steal my place as her real daughter!"

Georgette had actually told Cora all of that?

No wonder Cora had always treated me with such contempt. In her mind, Georgette was the CEO who lived in the villa. And I was the pitiful orphan Georgette had taken in out of charity.

So all this time, Cora believed I was the one freeloading in her house, scheming to steal her only-daughter status.

It was absurd.

Cora spun around and announced to her classmates at full volume. "Do you guys have any idea how shameless this woman is? She parks herself in my house every single day. You can't get rid of her. I even left a note telling her to stop mooching off our place, and she lost it. Called the cops and told them my mom was bullying her."

"My mom was worried she'd blow it up into a scandal that would hurt the company's reputation, so she just let it go. Bought me this villa so I could live on my own."

"Honestly, sometimes I can't wrap my head around it. I'm my mother's biological daughter, the real heiress, and even I stay in the dorms most of the time. But this broke little orphan? She practically lives at my house like she owns it. It got so bad that when I wanted to wear my own clothes or drink my favorite wine, my mom had to sneak them over from the city penthouse just so this girl wouldn't find out and cry about being mistreated again."

"I have never, in my entire life, met anyone this shameless."

My eyes went wide.

So that was why things kept disappearing from the house. Georgette had been stealing them and bringing them here for her daughter.

What a piece of work.

Fine, Georgette. If you want to play me for a fool, then don't expect mercy.

I pulled out my phone on the spot and dialed the legal department. "Send a team to my parents' countryside estate immediately—"

Before I could finish, Cora snatched the phone out of my hand and hurled it to the floor.

"God, you never stop pretending, do you?" she screamed. "Your parents' estate? This villa belongs to my mom. She bought it for me!"

The classmates piled on, sneering and spitting insults one after another.

"So that's why she never stays in the dorms like the rest of us. I thought she was off doing something important. Turns out she was playing parasite at Cora's house, trying to steal someone else's mother. Disgusting."

"Exactly. Her own parents are dead, so she goes hunting for someone else's rich ones. If her parents knew she was this shameless, they'd be rolling in their graves."

"Some people are just born desperate. The second they see money, they'll do anything to worm their way in. Suck up to a sugar daddy, latch onto a rich godmother, whatever gets them to the top."

"Cora, you're honestly too nice. If someone tried to steal my parents, I'd rip her apart."

I ignored every word. I looked straight at Cora and said, my voice low and firm, "I suggest you call your mother right now and ask her who this villa really belongs to."

Cora's expression darkened. She grabbed me by the collar.