The General's Replacement Doctor Wife

Chapter 2

Olivia stood frozen. This couldn't be real. Things like this didn't happen to her. Good things didn't happen to the girl with what the kids in the orphanage called ‘the girl with witch eyes.' But Mrs. Hilton was smiling at her, eyes brimming with tears. And for the first time in forever, someone was looking straight into Olivia's strange eyes without flinching away.

"Would you like to come home with us?" Mrs. Hilton asked gently.

Olivia couldn't speak. She could only nod.

Behind her, she could feel Sarah's eyes slicing through her like a knife, Asher's angry curse, Sister Anne's teeth grinding.

But none of it mattered anymore.

Because someone had chosen her. Someone had looked at her, really looked at her, and wanted her anyway.

—

The car pulled up in front of an iron gate that slowly opened with a creak. Olivia pressed her face against the window as they drove up a long driveway lined with perfectly manicured trees. The house at the end wasn't just a house, it was a mansion, bigger than anything she'd ever seen.

"Welcome home," Mr. Hilton said when the car stopped in the driveway.

"Let me show you your new room," Mrs. Hilton said, taking her hand.

Olivia entered her new room, her worn-out shoes sinking into the plush pink carpet. The space was bigger than any room she'd ever seen, with floor-to-ceiling windows draped in flowing pink curtains, a queen-sized bed with mountains of pillows, and topped with a delicate canopy that made it look like a princess would lie in it.

Her fingers trembled as she touched the soft bedspread. At the orphanage, her thin mattress had lumps and springs that poked through her frame, and her blanket was scratchy wool that made her skin itch at night.

"The bathroom is through here, dear," Mrs. Hilton said, leading her to another door.

Olivia's jaw dropped. The bathtub could fit three people. Back at St. Therese's, she shared one tiny bathroom with twelve other girls, and the water was freezing cold.

"Do you like it, dear?"

Olivia nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Everything felt like a dream she might wake up from at any moment.

They walked back into the room, and for the first time, her eyes landed on the portrait hanging on the wall. The girl appeared to be about her age and looked just like her; if it weren't for her eyes, Olivia would have thought it was a portrait of herself.

“T-that's C-Caroline," Mrs. Hilton whispered. “My daughter."

Olivia couldn't look away from the face resembling hers.

"We lost her a year ago," Mrs. Hilton continued, dabbing at her eyes with a silk handkerchief. "We were on a cruise ship when she fell off..." Her voice broke completely.

Olivia finally understood the Hiltons' instant decision to adopt her.

She wasn't chosen because they wanted her. She was chosen because she looked like their dead daughter.

She was just a replacement.

—

Not long after the Hilton family left, a sleek black Rolls-Royce pulled into the orphanage driveway. Sister Anne was still fuming about losing Olivia when she emerged to greet the visitor. Her anger vanished instantly at the sight of the woman stepping out of the car. Four men in dark suits immediately surrounded her.

The woman was breathtaking, but what made Sister Anne's heart stop and caused her breath to catch in her throat were her eyes—one green, one blue.

"I'm looking for a child my father left in this orphanage fourteen years ago," the woman's voice was soft but commanding. Her perfectly manicured fingers brushed a strand of dark hair from her face. "My daughter wore a locket. She also has a mole on her back."

Sister Anne's face drained of color. She had seen that mark on Olivia once when she changed her clothes. She also recalled seeing her wearing an old necklace, which she had thought was ugly, but now, considering its value, she no longer thought of it that way.

"This is for the orphanage," the woman continued. One of her guards stepped forward with a briefcase. "For taking care of my daughter. I hope this will be enough."

She opened the briefcase, and Sister Anne felt her breath hitch in her throat at the sight of the stacks of cash neatly bundled inside. It was an unimaginable sum, one that could transform the orphanage and ensure that children would not starve for a decade.

"My daughter will be taken care of by me from now on. I'll provide only the best education, the finest opportunities, everything I couldn't give her before."

Sister Anne's hands trembled as she accepted the briefcase. Olivia was gone, taken by the Hiltons just hours ago. But Sarah, her sweet Sarah, had no one. This could be her only opportunity for a better life.

"Please wait here; I'll get your daughter," Sister Anne said. She hurried to Sarah's room, finding the girl crying, unable to accept that Olivia had been taken from the orphanage before her.

"Sarah," she said, wiping the tears from the child's cheeks. "Listen carefully. From now on, you will have a family of your own. They're rich, wealthier than the Hiltons. They will provide you with a bright future. But never... never mention Olivia ever again."

Sarah's eyes widened; she didn't understand but nodded. She had learned long ago to follow Sister Anne's lead.

When Sister Anne presented Sarah to the woman, she showed the mole on the child's back. "This is your daughter. Her name is Sarah."