Chapter 4

I met my biological parents in the evening.

The moment I saw them, I understood why Aaron and Eleanor had looked so startled when they first saw me.

I looked very much like my biological mother, Evelyn Maxwell.

I could even see my own reflection, twenty years in the future, on Evelyn's face.

"Seraphina, my daughter." She tremblingly touched my face, and she and my biological father looked me over.

The sheer resemblance was enough to confirm our relationship.

This scene was quite emotional; even though I didn't care much, a pang of sadness still welled up inside me.

They were curious about my past, especially Evelyn.

Her face, even with fine lines etched on it, held an unnamed hope.

A hope that her culpable friend had given me up for adoption to a good family.

"My adoptive parents found me in a remote suburb. I was close to dying then," I said calmly.

The faces of those around us shifted.

Clearly, Eleanor Maxwell's biological mother hadn't intended for me to survive and cause trouble for her biological daughter.

At this moment, Eleanor and her daughter weren't present.

I briefly talked about my life over the years. Nothing particularly noteworthy—adopted, went to school, worked, married, had children, all in due course.

From their perspective, it was a relatively ordinary life.

"Seraphina, I know you've suffered out there, but this matter isn't suitable for public knowledge. We don't want outsiders making our family a laughingstock."

Richard Maxwell, my biological father, spoke.

"Although Eleanor isn't your mother's or my biological child, she's been our daughter for decades. She's also Mrs. Thorne now, and her biological mother has passed away. If this gets out, it will affect both families."

He paused, then continued, "We'll tell everyone we took you in as our goddaughter because of fate. We'll bring your children back too. How about your mother and I compensate you in other ways?"

Before I could react, my older daughter, Chloe, spoke up: "If you weren't planning on acknowledging my mom, then why bother finding her in the first place?"

Her tone was not good. The two girls had been whispering to each other all afternoon, clearly dissatisfied with the family's attitude.

Aaron Maxwell's voice cut in: "Who said you could interrupt when your elders are speaking? Where are your manners?"

He looked down on my daughters.

In other words, he looked down on me.

It was rare for my two girls to have their manners questioned. Maya also spoke up for her sister:

"You're not being fair, and we can't say anything? My mom is the victim, but you're protecting the daughter of the one who harmed her."

"Seraphina Hayes, is this how you raise your daughters?" Aaron's face flushed with anger, and he stood up, glaring at me.

I looked at him calmly: "My daughters have excellent manners. They don't stay silent when their mother is being bullied. And you? By what right do you presume to lecture my daughters? As their uncle?"

"I was never raised by my biological parents," I looked at Evelyn and Richard. "And my daughters have never received any care from you. Even as guests here today, we certainly don't deserve to be criticized and lectured by someone using their 'elder' status, do we?"

One sentence turned the faces of the three of them white, then red.