The switch

I was the long-lost heiress to the Alston family, with a loving husband, a protective brother, and two beautiful twin daughters. My life was perfect.

But the day my daughters died in a fire, the two men I loved most didn't comfort me. They protected the woman responsible-Jorja, the one I was switched at birth with.

They locked me in a psychiatric ward, claiming I was insane with grief. They said Jorja was a hero who had once saved their lives, and they would protect her at all costs.

To save my last surviving daughter, who lay in a coma, they forced me to my knees. I had to publicly confess I was an unfit mother and that my children's deaths were my fault.

But it was all a lie. They let my last daughter die anyway, diverting her doctors to treat Jorja for a scratch on her wrist.

As I walked out of the hospital, carrying my daughter's cold body, my phone rang. It was a prosecutor.

"I saw your post," he said. "Do you still need a lawyer?"

Chapter 1

Krista Brown POV

The day my twin daughters burned to death, my husband and my brother chose the woman who set the fire.

My life had seemed perfect. I was the long-lost heiress to the Alston family. Elijah, my husband, was a top psychiatrist. Broderick, my brother, was a powerful corporate lawyer. Anna and Nora, my twin girls, were everything to me.

But perfection, I learned, was only a mask for betrayal.

I stood by the grand bay window in our Back Bay townhouse, watching the morning sun illuminate the Charles River. My life felt like that light—brilliant, expansive, completely secure.

Ten years ago, the Alston family discovered I was their true heiress, switched at birth with Jorja. They welcomed me back, showering me with love and privilege.

Today was our wedding anniversary.

Elijah walked in, handed me a single red rose. "Happy anniversary, my love."

Broderick called, his voice booming with affection, asking about the girls.

I had everything a woman could ever want.

Then my phone rang.

"Mrs. Drake, there's been an incident at the academy. It's Anna and Nora."

A fire. Their coach—Jorja Alston.

I met Elijah and Broderick at the hospital. Chaos. Firefighters. Grieving parents.

Then I saw them. Elijah and Broderick weren't looking for our daughters. They were standing near a private waiting area.

Talking to Jorja.

Her face was streaked with soot, her eyes wide—but surprisingly dry.

"Where are Anna and Nora?"

Elijah's face was unreadable. Broderick put a hand on Jorja's shoulder. A gesture of comfort meant for her.