The woman looked around, her shifty eyes filled with panic.
"Hey! What are you doing? Put my daughter down! Give my daughter back to me!"
Myra's heart was gripped by an uncontrollable panic as she screamed and lunged forward.
But this was only a dream, a replay of events like an old movie. She couldn't do anything except watch helplessly as everything unfolded.
No one could see her nor hear the heartbroken cries of a mother.
Myra could only stand there, powerless, as her daughter—whom she had birthed through immense pain and effort—was taken away right before her eyes. She watched as her baby girl was switched with another—a thin, tan, and frail infant.
"Both of them bear the Fuller last name. Why should my daughter be born with such a lowly fate while someone else's daughter is destined to be the heiress of the richest family in Khogend, born with a silver spoon in her mouth?" the man said.
"They're rich, aren't they? I heard they're the wealthiest couple in Khogend! With that much money, they'll surely raise my daughter well. As repayment, I'll make sure to raise their little princess," the woman responded.
"Don't worry, dear. No one will find out."
"Just think about it. A pampered little heiress reduced to being our servant. When she grows up, we'll sell her off for a few thousand bucks to be some man's bride. Why does that make me so happy?"
Their conversation, filled with malice and arrogance, echoed in Myra's ears like a curse.
Hearing these words, Myra felt her mind being blown.
It wasn't an accident. There was no mistake. From the very beginning, it had all been a carefully planned scheme.
Myra recognized the couple in front of her. They were the despicable Howell and Tabitha!
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