The Running Commentary That Fueled My Comeback

One day, a wealthy couple is invited to give a speech at my university.

My childhood sweetheart, Henry McGregor, tugs me along, eager for us to sneak out to the cafeteria and do some part-time work.

He tells me to go grab the empty bucket from the shelf.

But just as I take a step, a flood of messages suddenly appears in front of my eyes.

[Don't touch that bucket! It's filled with scalding soup that Henry prepared. He wants to ruin your face!]

[Three years ago, Henry had his first love impersonate you, becoming the long-lost daughter of the Wright family. Now, he plans to disfigure you so you'll never be able to return.]

[You'll endure severe burns all over your body and undergo countless skin grafts. In the end, the fake heiress will poison you by swapping your medicine.]

[Meanwhile, that scumbag will marry into the Wright family. Along with the impostor, they'll drain the Wrights of everything they have.]

[You need to go back right now and let Mrs. Wright see your face. This is your only chance to reclaim your rightful place as their daughter!]

At that moment, I hear Henry urging me again to hurry and move the bucket. As I glance at the flood of messages once more, I freeze, stopping dead in my tracks.

"Penelope, why are you zoning out? Hurry up and bring the bucket over. I can't carry it myself!"

Henry McGregor was my childhood sweetheart of 18 years.

He stood about 30 feet away, holding two heavy bags of potatoes.

The flood of messages kept bombarding my vision.

[My poor heroine, please, don't touch that bucket!]

[Run! Your face is identical to Mrs. Wright's. If it's ruined, you'll never be able to return home!]

My legs trembled as I slowly took a step back.

Henry called out to me twice more. When he noticed I wasn't moving, he took a couple of steps forward.

"Penelope, what's going on in your head?"

Glancing away from the bucket, I asked, "Henry, I heard Mr. Victor Wright is here to give a speech today. He found his long-lost daughter a few years ago, didn't he?"

Henry's eyes widened, but he quickly masked his surprise with a shrug.

"How would I know about the affairs of rich people?

"But if we don't finish the job, we won't get paid today."

He kept urging me, but I simply sat down at the doorway.

"I'm a little tired. Can I rest for just two minutes?"

Henry's anxiety grew. "You can rest after moving the bucket."

The more anxious he got, the more suspicious I became.

Ignoring him, I took out my phone and quickly searched online. Sure enough, I found the Wright family's news from three years ago.

The young woman crying in Ursula Wright's embrace was none other than Clara O'Malley, our childhood friend.

It made sense now why Clara had changed her last name to Wright just as freshman year started.

She had even told me it was because a fortune teller had advised her to do so.

Biting my lip, I held out my phone to Henry, who was still pressing me to move the bucket.

"Isn't this Clara?"

Henry swallowed hard, avoiding my gaze. "I guess so. But I've been busy with work. I don't have time to worry about such trivial things.

"Now, hurry up and move the bucket, will you? Once we're done, I'll take you out for some crawfish."

Why was he changing the subject? It was obvious he was hiding something.

It felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest.

I was just two years old when I was abducted. A year after arriving at my new home, my adoptive parents abandoned me.

It was at the orphanage where I met Henry. He was the same age as me.

We grew up together as childhood sweethearts and eventually found ourselves at the same university.

Over the years, he took great care of me. He'd save up to buy me snacks and even took me out during the holidays.

When my classmates teased me for being an orphan, he took up martial arts just to protect me.

He even pinned down the ones who bullied me and made them apologize.

Five years ago, he gave me a bouquet of roses and confessed his feelings. He knew that roses were my favorite flowers.

He promised his eternal love, assuring me that we were each other's one and only family.