"I'm Catherine," I say, but it's a lie.

The Smiths have given me everything-luxury, power, attention. To them, I'm their perfect daughter. But I'm not. I'm Beata, a girl they dragged from the streets to save their precious Catherine.

I was just a match-a bone marrow match for their sick little girl. And now? Now, she's trapped in my body.

I remember that night. Snow falling, the cold biting into my skin as I walked into this mansion.

A house so big it felt like a dream. The housekeeper led me inside, and I was surrounded by fruits I couldn't name and carpets that felt like clouds beneath my feet. It was surreal, like I had stepped into another world.

But then the nightmare began.

They brought her down-Catherine. Thin, pale, dying. Pearl, my adoptive mother, ran to her, excitement in her voice. "We found your match, darling! You're saved!"

I stood there, frozen, and she-Catherine-looked me up and down. Her eyes were cold. "You're filthy," she spat.

Pearl's voice went sharp. "Take her upstairs! Wash her off. She's dirty."

And so began the torment. Scrubbed with wire brushes until I bled, until I screamed. But Catherine was never satisfied. I was never clean enough for her.

Eighteen years of this.

I couldn't take it anymore. I climbed to the balcony, the weight of the pain too much to bear, and I jumped.

When I opened my eyes again, everything was different.

"Baby, please!" Pearl sobbed, clutching my body to her chest. "You scared us!"

I flinched, my skin crawling. Henry's voice, oily and smooth, asked, "Where does it hurt?"

I stared at him, disgust rising. This man. This predator. He had touched me too many times in ways that made my skin crawl.

They still thought I was Catherine.

"Catherine, you scared us so much," Pearl whispered, caressing my face.

Then I heard her. Catherine's voice, weak and trembling.

"M-mom, dad, I'm here."

I turned. She was there, lying on the floor, weak, frail. The real Catherine.

"Beata!" Pearl screeched. "You should rot in hell! You almost killed her!"

Henry snarled. "You're lucky she's still breathing, Beata. If anything happens to Catherine, there's nowhere you can run."

On the ground, there was another "me," and just as I tried to focus on it, the old woman barked, "Rachel, get the young lady to her room. Call for more servants to help. And fetch the family doctor-quickly!"

The only one in this house who's ever been kind to me was Rachel, Catherine's governess-honest, simple, yet Catherine never showed her an ounce of respect. They hurriedly carried me toward the mansion. As we passed the grand hall mirror, I caught a glimpse of a face identical to Catherine's.

"Ah!" I screamed. The servants froze in their tracks. Catherine's mother shrieked, "Be gentle! Did she hurt herself? My baby, the doctor's coming, don't worry!" And then, like a wounded animal, she howled.

"Back! Back to the mirror!" I yelled, panicked. The servants quickly stepped back. In the mirror, I saw a face-a face just like Catherine's. But where was Catherine? I looked down at my body-dressed in expensive Burberry, something I never wore. I had always dressed in cheap street clothes, sometimes even the cast-offs Catherine didn't want. What was happening?

My mind raced. Where's my face? Then it hit me-the moment before I was carried in, when I jumped, I saw another version of me. But who was that?

Just then, another me was dragged in by her hair. We stared at each other. She screamed, "Mom! Dad! I'm Catherine!"

"You've lost your mind!" the old woman screamed. "You're Beata! The girl we took in! If it weren't for your marrow, you'd have been cast out long ago!"

I'm in Catherine's body. The supernatural has happened. Our bodies swapped.

Looking at the "me" on the floor, I barked, "Get her to the bed. Take care of her. Heal her wounds. Treat her well, feed her well."

Everyone froze. I wasn't trying to be kind to Catherine-I was pitying the body I had once inhabited, the frail, abused body.

"Yes, take care of Beata. My daughter still needs her marrow to live," Catherine's sickening father added, patting my head. I flinched, pushing away.

They carried me into Catherine's room-my former prison. Once, I dared glimpse inside, and they beat me half to death. Now, I could enter freely, sleep here.

"Rachel, give me the mirror. My body hurts... I can't move properly." I whispered.

Rachel handed me the mirror with reverence. "Thank you," I said, as she stared at me in disbelief.

"What's wrong, Rachel?" I asked.

"Miss... I... Ah, never mind. Rest, Miss. Call me if you need anything."

"No need. You go rest. If anything, I'll message Mrs. Smith. She'll come," I told her.

"Mrs. Smith?" Rachel's eyes widened at the title.

"Mrs. Smith," I repeated-my usual way of referring to Pearl. But now, I was Catherine. I should be calling her "Mother." Realizing my mistake, I quickly corrected myself. "I must have lost my memory from the fall. Temporary amnesia."

"The doctor's here!" A servant called from downstairs.

Rachel explained my condition to the doctor. Catherine's mother hovered, fretting. "Make sure you check her head thoroughly. We can't afford her forgetting anything."

How could I forget? Everything they did to me-I'll never forget it.

The doctor asked me questions, and I answered with ease. He conducted a thorough check. Aside from a slight arm fracture, nothing else seemed wrong. Then I asked, "What about myself? The one who took over my body-how is she?"

The doctor replied, "No one has asked to treat her yet."

I exploded. "What do you mean, no one? Go to her immediately. There can't be a single scratch on her! What if I end up back in my body one day? She can't be injured."

"Of course. Right away," Catherine's twisted father replied, his voice filled with haste.

From now on, I would be Catherine, and she would be me. Her parents would be mine, and I... well, I had no parents anymore.

On the ground, there was another "me," and just as I tried to focus on it, the old woman barked, "Rachel, get the young lady to her room. Call for more servants to help. And fetch the family doctor-quickly!"

The only one in this house who's ever been kind to me was Rachel, Catherine's governess-honest, simple, yet Catherine never showed her an ounce of respect. They hurriedly carried me toward the mansion. As we passed the grand hall mirror, I caught a glimpse of a face identical to Catherine's.

"Ah!" I screamed. The servants froze in their tracks.

Catherine's mother shrieked, "Be gentle! Did she hurt herself? My baby, the doctor's coming, don't worry!" And then, like a wounded animal, she howled.

"Back! Back to the mirror!" I yelled, panicked.

The servants quickly stepped back.

In the mirror, I saw a face-a face just like Catherine's. But where was Catherine? I looked down at my body-dressed in expensive Burberry, something I never wore.

I had always dressed in cheap street clothes, sometimes even the cast-offs Catherine didn't want. What was happening?

My mind raced. Where's my face? Then it hit me-the moment before I was carried in, when I jumped, I saw another version of me. But who was that?

Just then, another me was dragged in by her hair. We stared at each other. She screamed, "Mom! Dad! I'm Catherine!"

"You've lost your mind!" the old woman screamed. "You're Beata! The girl we took in! If it weren't for your marrow, you'd have been cast out long ago!"

I'm in Catherine's body. Our bodies swapped.

Looking at the "me" on the floor, I barked, "Get her to the bed. Take care of her. Heal her wounds. Treat her well, feed her well."

Everyone froze. I wasn't trying to be kind to Catherine-I was pitying the body I had once inhabited, the frail, abused body.

"Yes, take care of Beata. My daughter still needs her marrow to live," Catherine's sickening father added, patting my head. I flinched, pushing away.

They carried me into Catherine's room. Once, I dared glimpse inside, and they beat me half to death. Now, I could enter freely, sleep here.

"Rachel, give me the mirror. My body hurts... I can't move properly." I whispered.

Rachel handed me the mirror with reverence. "Thank you," I said, as she stared at me in disbelief.

"What's wrong, Rachel?" I asked.

"Miss... I... Ah, never mind. Rest, Miss. Call me if you need anything."

" You go rest. If anything, I'll message Mrs. Smith. She'll come," I told her.

"Mrs. Smith?" Rachel's eyes widened.

"Mrs. Smith," I repeated-my usual way of referring to Pearl. But now, I was Catherine. I should be calling her "Mother."

Realizing my mistake, I quickly corrected myself. "I must have lost my memory from the fall. Temporary amnesia."

"The doctor's here!" A servant called from downstairs.

Rachel explained my condition to the doctor. Catherine's mother hovered, fretting. "Make sure you check her head thoroughly. We can't afford her forgetting anything."

How could I forget? Everything they did to me-I'll never forget it.

The doctor asked me questions, and I answered with ease

He conducted a thorough check. Aside from a slight arm fracture, nothing else seemed wrong. Then I asked, "What about the girl they took over?"

The doctor replied, "No one has asked to treat her yet."

I exploded. "What do you mean, no one? Go to her immediately. There can't be a single scratch on her!"

What if I end up back in my body one day?

"Of course. Right away," Catherine's twisted father replied.

From now on, I would be Catherine, and she would be me. Her parents would be mine, and I... well, she had no parents anymore.