"Natalie, you may have spent eighteen years out in the countryside, but did you have to pick up all the bad habits too?"
"Usually you keep your head down, and we let it slide. Sneaking food in the kitchen, fine, we overlooked that. But now you've actually taken Beatrix's money!"
Natalie Ingram pressed a hand to the dull ache at the back of her head and slowly opened her eyes.
The first thing she saw was the mottled cement wall across from her, an old wooden table, and on top of it a big chipped enamel mug with red flowers painted on the side.
Then she noticed the two people standing by her, both staring at her with wide, accusing eyes.
What rotten luck.
She had only dozed off for a moment, and somehow she, a top-tier bodyguard, had dropped straight into that unfinished, dog-blood true-and-false heiress novel set in the sixties—the one she'd skimmed before—and become the cannon-fodder supporting girl who happened to share her name: the real heiress, Natalie Ingram.
The original Natalie Ingram had been the biological daughter of the deputy director of the Wucheng Steelworks.
But when she was born, enemy agents had slipped into the hospital.
In the chaos that followed, the baby had been switched.
She was raised for eighteen years in the fourth branch of the Ingram family in Qianjin Brigade out in the countryside before the truth finally came to light.
A few days ago, the Ingram couple had personally brought the original owner back, and they had even wanted to take Beatrix Ashford—the daughter wrongly raised in her place—back with them.
But Vice Director Ashford and his wife said life in the countryside was hard just then, so why not keep both girls in the house for now.
Thinking of how the Ingram family was barely scraping by, with too little food and too few warm clothes, the couple agreed.
And just like that, Vice Director Ashford's household went from one son and one daughter to one son and two daughters.
Anybody who saw it would praise Vice Director Ashford for being broad-minded and decent, a man of real conscience.
But what kind of life the original Natalie had actually lived in the Ashford home—only she herself knew.
Just now, the fake heiress, Beatrix Ashford, had suddenly burst into the room and accused the original owner of stealing her money.
The original Natalie had a soft temper, that was true, but even she would not admit to a charge that had been thrown on her out of nowhere.
Once the two of them started quarreling, the original Natalie had been shoved by Beatrix, and her head slammed right into the sharp corner of the wall.
Then Claudia Ashford came into the room. Not only did she not ask how Natalie was doing, she went straight to backing Beatrix up and scolding Natalie instead.
The anger in Natalie shot up on the spot.
What kind of justice was this?
She pushed herself up from the wooden plank bed and stared straight at the girl across from her. Beatrix had that pitiful little look on her face again, all weak and wronged.
"You said money went missing? What money do you even have?"
Beatrix hurried to answer, "The money Mom gave me yesterday to buy a silk scarf. It was for getting ready to go audition for the song-and-dance troupe in a few days."
"Natalie, I know you feel upset and unbalanced, but that doesn't mean you can steal."
"If you dare take my money today, who's to say you won't steal from the collective next time? Then our whole family will be dragged through the mud."
Natalie gave a short, cold curl of the lip.
"Beatrix Ashford, the Ashford family raised you all these years. Now you know you're not their real daughter, and you're still here eating well, living well, acting like nothing happened. You've got some nerve."
"You say I stole money? Then show the proof. Don't stand there barking accusations when you've got nothing to back it up."
The second she finished speaking, she lifted her hand and slapped her hard across the face.
Smack—
"That one was for the shove just now. My head's still spinning."
Five red finger marks rose at once on half of Beatrix's face, and she froze where she stood.
Not even in her dreams had she expected that the usual timid, swallow-everything Natalie would actually dare to hit her now.
Claudia, standing nearby, was stunned too. Then her face darkened, full of anger and disgust, and she snapped,
"Natalie Ingram! How can you hit someone!"
Natalie looked at her with an icy expression. "Why didn't you say a word when she shoved me? Now that I hit her back, suddenly you can't stay quiet?"
"If you feel so bad for her, then let’s go outside right now and let the whole courtyard judge this!"
"Or we can go straight to the public security office! While we’re at it, everybody can see exactly how I’ve been living here these days!"
"Every single day I wash clothes, cook meals, clean the house, and work from morning till night. Beatrix Ashford and Humphrey Ashford, though? They don’t lift a finger! I might as well bring the food right up to their mouths and feed them!"
It was just the hour people were getting off work that afternoon. One after another, folks from the courtyard were coming back.
Seeing her turn and head for the door, Claudia Ashford hurried over and blocked her, anger all over her face.
"Stand right there! Haven’t you embarrassed us enough already?"
Natalie Ingram turned her head and shot her a glance. "So you do know it’s shameful when Beatrix Ashford slanders somebody."
At that moment, Beatrix Ashford had one hand pressed to her face, eyes shining with tears.
"F-forget it, Mom. I don’t want the scarf anymore. Maybe... maybe I really did wrong Natalie. Maybe she didn’t take the money."
That only made Claudia Ashford feel even sorrier for her at once.
"It’s my money. I’ll spend it on whoever I want. I said I’d buy you a scarf, so I will!"
"Nothing ever went missing in this house before she came. Ever since she stepped through the door, things have changed. If not her, then who else could it be?"