The Real Heiress Returns They Regretted Everything After I Disappeared

I crouched down, picked up the agreement, then grabbed the pen.

Mom's voice cut through the silence.

"Alex Cox, have you really thought this through? Once you sign, your tuition, your life—none of it will be the Cox family's concern anymore."

I lifted my head and met her gaze.

For just a second, panic flickered in her eyes.

Then it was gone. I signed without expression.

"Mrs. Cox. Mr. Cox. From this moment forward, I have nothing to do with either of you. Don't worry—I won't come around to disturb your lives."

I gathered my scattered clothes piece by piece, stuffed them into the suitcase, and walked out.

I hadn't gone far when my body started burning up. My vision blurred at the edges.

A fever. Of course.

Despair wrapped around me like a shroud.

My legs gave out. I found a random corner, hugged my luggage to my chest, and sank to the ground.

Tears streamed down my face again.

I stared at the agreement in my hand, and the pain hit in waves.

Black ink on white paper, spelling out that my parents were severing ties with me—and that I owed them for years of "child-rearing expenses."

But they forgot.

Vivian came to the Cox family when she was five.

From that day on, I stopped being their daughter. I lost the right to spend a single cent of their money.

While Vivian wore designer labels and traveled the world, I picked through her discarded clothes and stayed locked in my room.

When school started, Vivian signed up for every enrichment class money could buy.

I scraped by on competition prizes to cover my own tuition.

Apart from a few hundred dollars each semester for public elementary school, I never touched the Cox family's wealth.

They were so afraid Vivian might be upset by the sight of me that they refused to give me living expenses—yet forced me to board at school.

The Cox family's own daughter, reduced to begging the homeroom teacher for poverty assistance.

That's how I survived.

Memory after memory flashed through my mind.

Then everything went black, and I collapsed completely.

When I opened my eyes, Ms. Sanchez was standing over me.

"Alex, how do you feel? Still uncomfortable anywhere?"

I stared at her in shock. "Ms. Sanchez? Why are you here?"

"I was passing by and saw you unconscious on the sidewalk. I tried to take you to the hospital, but you kept mumbling 'no hospital,' so I brought you home instead."

Her brow creased. "Why were you lying outside alone? Where are your parents?"

The question pierced straight through me.

"I don't have parents. Not anymore."

Ms. Sanchez had always known my situation.

She pulled me into her arms, her embrace tight with heartache.

"It's okay. Stay here with me. I'll support you through school."

The pain in my chest sharpened to a point.

A teacher who'd only known me a short while chose to help me out of pure compassion. My own parents only ever shoved me toward hell.

Under Ms. Sanchez's care, my body slowly recovered.

I let myself believe this could last—that I'd make it to the college entrance exam and finally be free.

Then the news hit: Ms. Sanchez had been fired.

I stormed to my parents with bloodshot eyes, my voice cracking into a scream.

"Why? Why would you do this? She didn't do anything wrong!"

Vivian stood beside them, malice curling her lips into a smile.

"Oh, Alex. You really don't know?" She tilted her head, savoring the moment. "I discovered that Ms. Sanchez's private life is... improper. Someone like that has no business being a teacher. So I had Mom and Dad take care of it."