Zora was the fake daughter but she was the loved one too. She was the one my parents adored and the one my husband pined for. I might be the real daughter but when my family looked at me, they wished it was Zora standing. “Congratulations Luna, you're six weeks pregnant,” were the words that changed my life and made me hope that my parents would finally see me as their daughter and that my husband would learn to love me. But when I walked into our sitting room, eager to break the good news, a bad one was waiting for me in the shape of a crying girl in my husband's arms. Zora is back.