Growing up, I was treated like a burden. My mom adored my sisters but barely tolerated me. I never knew why—until one explosive argument revealed the truth. My supposed dad shouted, “She’s not mine!” because of my blonde hair and blue eyes. At 14, I ordered a DNA test. My dad found it, tested my sisters, and left us all—except Tessa, the only one biologically his.
My mom turned even crueler. She blamed me, charged me rent, and said I ruined her life. I moved out right after graduation and built my own life. Years later, I begged for my real father’s name. She told me Darren—and gave me a fake address. Eventually, I found the real one.
When he opened the door, he recognized me instantly. “You’re Leah,” he said, hugging me. He hadn’t abandoned me—my mom had lied. Darren welcomed me into his family and gave me the gift I never expected: a house in my name. He said, “I can’t give back the years, but I can give you a future.”
Then my mom and Maya moved in without permission, claiming they were evicted. I told them to leave—or I’d call the police. They ran. Now, I’ve locked the door for good. I wasn’t the mistake. I was the truth they tried to hide—but I rose anyway.
