Yvette and I were taken to the Grant residence together. While we were on the way there, we both played up our fear.

“What if I’m not really your biological child?”

“Yeah, if I’m not either, won’t you be heartbroken?”

Mr. Grant sat beside us with his eyes closed, pretending to rest, while Mrs. Grant patiently reassured us.

“The private investigator we hired was very expensive. His information can’t be wrong. One of you must be our child. And even if one of you isn’t, it doesn’t matter. Since we’ve taken you in, it means we’re meant to be. The Grant family will raise you both.

“So, stop calling us Mr. and Mrs. Grant. You may call us Mom and Dad.”

She tried hard to put on the image of a kind, loving mother, but just looking at her sent a chill down my spine.

When we arrived at the Grant residence, she had the maids settle us into separate rooms, then left with Mr. Grant.

After confirming there were no cameras or bugs, Yvette and I huddled together, whispering.

She jabbed a finger at me. “Queenie, are you nuts? You pushed me out there earlier! We’ve already died twice, and you’re still like some cursed brat, insisting on fighting me, huh?”

I shot her a look. “Oh please, you dragged me down with you too. Now, we’re both stuck here! But whatever. This is actually what I wanted. Even if you hadn’t said anything, I was going to make sure we both got adopted by the Grant family.”

Yvette’s confusion deepened. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you want to find out the truth behind how we died?”

Yvette nodded immediately when she heard me. “Of course, I do!”

I looked around the room and said slowly, “That truth has to be somewhere in this house… But answer me first, are you absolutely sure you’re not their real daughter?

“Then why did they call me a liar after running the blood test in my first life and strangle me to death?”

Yvette’s face turned pale as she shook her head frantically. “There's no way it's me! I was sent for a DNA test too, but before I even saw the results, someone shoved me from behind. I fell down the hospital stairs and broke my leg.

“Mrs. Grant said I needed surgery…But after I was pushed into the operating room, I never woke up. Thinking back now, I’m pretty sure they pushed me down the stairs!”

I fell silent, deep in thought.

“If you’re not the real heiress, and I’m not either… but the Grant family insists their real daughter must be one of us… Then who exactly are they looking for?”

Yvette wracked her not-so-bright brain and tentatively said, “Maybe we’re both their daughters? I mean, this time, we made it here safely…”

I was annoyed at her incompetence and smacked her on the head. “Seriously, are you an idiot?”

Yvette’s eyes narrowed as she tried to strike back. I grabbed her hand to stop her and spoke in a low, serious tone.

“Enough. We need to figure out what to do if they take us for a DNA test later.”

“Right, the DNA test!”

Yvette seemed to have an idea. She tugged me aside and whispered, “This all started because of that test, so if we don’t go to the hospital, maybe none of this will happen.”

I pondered for a moment and nodded. “That’s possible, but we can’t exactly refuse them...”

Her eyes gleamed. “Then we just stop them from bringing it up in the first place!”

Before she could finish, we heard the maids greeting someone at the door. It seemed like Mr. and Mrs. Grant were back.

I hurried out and saw the faint exhaustion on their faces. Carefully, I stepped forward.

“Mom, Dad, you must be tired coming back so late. I learned some massage techniques from Ms. Hovard at the orphanage. Let me help you relax.”

Mr. Grant waved me off and loosened his tie as he headed straight into the study.

So, I turned to Mrs. Grant instead, looking at her expectantly. I knew she was the softer one.

She let out a sigh but did not refuse. I helped her sit on the couch and began massaging her shoulders from behind.

People would let their guard down when their eyes were closed. As I worked, I casually probed, “Mom, maybe we should do the DNA test soon. Staying here without knowing for sure makes me uneasy.”

She shook her head. “No rush. If you’re my child, you’re my child. Your father’s been busy lately. We’ll do it at a later date.”

She still did not say who, between Yvette and me, was her child. She just referred to us collectively.

“But… why me and Yvette?”

Perhaps my pressure was just right. She was getting drowsy. Her reply came in fragments, “Child… birthday… right…”

Her head tilted, and she fell asleep against the couch.

I slowly withdrew my hands, frowning as I thought it over.

Birthday? Could it be that our shared birthday was the key to determining who the real heiress was?

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…”