
Fake Sister, Fake Heiress
Chapter 2
2
On the day of the banquet, I didn't go, but I was being a dutiful onlooker the whole time.
Because Harley became a trending topic.
Her name was all over the trending topic list, and the topics included "Harley and her astonishing speech", "Harley's 10-carat diamond ring", "Harley's laughable remarks", and so on.
It seemed Harley had made a fool of herself.
Given the sarcasm in those trending topics, I was certain the comments below were even harsher.
I carefully looked at the trending topic list.
Among the top ten trending topics, half of them were about her.
A reporter uploaded the video of the interview online.
In the video, Harley was wearing all branded clothes, and the 10-carat diamond ring on her finger was exceptionally eye-catching.
In the business partner talk, the host invited her to explain the company philosophy. She fumbled helplessly for words and still couldn't even make any meaningful remarks.
One of the comments was, [I don't know about her educational background, but I don't think she's smart at all.]
I slowly returned home.
What I saw was my parents comforting Harley. Their eyes were red, their faces full of distress.
"You damn girl! How dare you come back!"
As soon as my dad saw me, he slammed the table heavily and scolded me sternly.
My mom didn't even look at me. She kept wiping Harley's tears with tissues and whispered, coaxing her, "Baby, stop crying. It breaks my heart to see you cry like this..."
I showed a mocking smile and asked, "What did I do?"
"You didn't go. Or how could Harley be scolded by others?"
People could be biased, but I didn't know why my parents could be this biased.
Because of Harley's tears, I was scolded without being given a chance to open my mouth.
I guessed they wanted different things from us.
They wanted me to shoulder the responsibility and do the grown-up things. And for Harley, they just wanted her to be happy.
I didn't bother to argue, so I ignored the warm scene of the family of three in front of me and went straight back to my room.
But in the next second, the door of the room was knocked.
As soon as I opened the door, I saw Harley's swollen eyes.
She glared at me fiercely and said, "Tilda, you did it on purpose, didn't you? You want to embarrass me, don't you?"
"Harley, do you really think being a daughter of a rich family is that easy?"
My words stung Harley, and she said in exasperation, "You think I came back to take everything from you, so you want me to suffer. You want to ruin me!"
I crossed my arms and shrugged. "Think whatever you want."
She forgot who brought her back from the filthy, dangerous bar. She had her current life all because of me.
I never expected that my long-lost sister would be an ungrateful person.
"Tilda, just wait. I will prove to you that I'm better than you!"
Because of this, Harley took the initiative to tell our parents she wanted to study.
My parents were delighted and immediately spent a lot of money to enroll her in various tutoring classes, trying to make up for all the years they owed her.
I didn't know about her learning progress. Anyway, she quickly showed her achievements to them.
She showed them a bunch of certificates, including Grade 10 in piano, Grade 9 in traditional painting, and Grade 8 in ballet...
Her teachers praised her.
Harley had a proud smile on her face and walked past me complacently.
I watched the scene in silence.
As someone who actually had those certificates, I could tell at a glance that Harley's certificates were fake. It was some lousy forgeries she brought online. She could buy 10 for 10 dollars, and the price even came with free shipping.
But my usually shrewd parents, blinded by their favoritism, couldn't see anything unusual at all and kept praising Harley, who had fooled them.
I was invited as a judge for a calligraphy appreciation event.
And I saw Harley in the contestant's seat.
I had always been groomed as the heir of the Hersey Group, and calligraphy was one of my few hobbies.
Unfortunately, whenever I liked something, Harley had to imitate me.
Everyone knew that we were sisters. Before the competition, a reporter came to interview me.
The reporter asked, "Miss Hersey, do you have anything to say about your sister participating in the competition?"
I said, "Not really, because I don't know about an amateur's strength. I wish her success."
The reporter asked, "When was the last time you lied?"
I said, "Just now."
Leaving the speechless reporter behind, I confidently entered the venue.