I Begged The Real Heiress To Take My Life Away Chapter 05

I Begged The Real Heiress To Take My Life Away Chapter 05

The Doyles’ diner sat at the end of an old street on the south side of town.

The storefront was small, with a sign out front that read Sunrise Diner.

When I dragged my sack up to the door, the whole place was steaming.

Trays of biscuits stacked in tall racks.

The grits pot rumbling on the stove.

A middle-aged man stood behind the counter in an apron, flour all over his hands.

A woman was clearing tables, hair thrown up in a messy knot, sweat on her face.

She looked up, saw me, and froze completely.

The rag in her hand hit the floor with a wet slap.

“You…”

My nose stung.

“Mom?”

Her eyes went red instantly.

“Daisy, honey?”

I suddenly didn’t know how to respond.

At the Sterling house, I was Daisy Sterling.

At school, kids called me Daisy the Disaster.

At the gala, people called me the fake heiress.

But that one word, honey, hit me like a splash of hot grits straight to the chest.

The woman ran over and threw her arms around me.

She smelled like cooking oil, green onions, and laundry soap.

It smelled amazing.

Better than perfume.

“My baby girl.”

Her shoulders shook as she cried.

“I’m so sorry, honey. I only just found out you’d been switched at birth.”

I started crying too.

But my crying got embarrassing fast.

Because my stomach growled.

Loud.

Really loud.

Peggy’s crying paused for a second.

Frank froze too.

I clutched my stomach, mortified.

“So… I didn’t really get to eat at the gala.”

Frank spun around instantly.

“Food! What do you want?”

I looked at the room full of steaming trays and nearly cried again.

“Can I have a biscuit?”

“Yes!”

“A sausage biscuit?”

“Yes!”

“Two of them?”

Frank slammed his hand on the table.

“Twenty!”

I was floored.

Was this what having a real dad felt like?

That night, I ate four sausage biscuits, a bowl of chicken and dumplings, two glazed donuts, and half a bowl

of sweet grits.

Peggy kept piling more onto my plate.

“Slow down.”

“Didn’t they feed you at that house?”

I mumbled, mouth full.

“They fed me.”

“Just never enough.”

Eleanor had been brutally strict about what I ate.

Carbs were a sin.

Sugar was poison.

Fried food was a one-way ticket down the social ladder.

One time I snuck a piece of fried chicken and Sebastian caught me red-handed.

He stood in my doorway, completely deadpan.

“Daisy Sterling. Do you understand that one piece of fried chicken just undid your entire body composition

plan for the day?”

I’d talked back at the time.

“Bro, that’s chicken breast.”

He glanced at the drumstick in my hand.

“You clearly don’t even know the anatomy of a chicken.”

I hadn’t been allowed fried chicken freedom since.

The Doyle place wasn’t five thousand square feet.

The living quarters were tucked right behind the shop.

Two small bedrooms, a tiny living room, and a kitchen so narrow you’d bump the fridge just turning around.

But the beds were clean.

The blankets had been sun-dried, fluffed up soft as clouds.

Peggy gave me the innermost room.

“Josie used to sleep here.”

She said it, then looked uneasy, like she was worried I’d mind.

I shook my head right away.

“I don’t mind at all.”

“If Sis slept here, that means good feng shui.”

“Maybe I’ll ace something too.”

That got a laugh out of Peggy, which turned straight back into tears.

“This kid. How do you not have a single serious bone in your body?”

I wanted to say I did have serious bones.

They’d just been trained to bounce back fast at the Sterling house.