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The Switched Heiress's Stolen Life Novel Cover

The Switched Heiress's Stolen Life

She was the Alston family's long-lost heiress, blessed with a devoted husband, a protective brother, and twin daughters—until a fire took her children and the two men she trusted most chose to shield Jorja, the woman she was switched with at birth. Branded insane with grief, she is locked in a psychiatric ward and forced to publicly confess she was an unfit mother, all to save her last surviving daughter from a coma. But the men let the child die anyway, diverting her doctors to treat Jorja's minor wrist wound. Carrying her daughter's cold body from the hospital, she receives a call from a prosecutor: "I saw your post. Do you still need a lawyer?"
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Chapter 1

I was the long-lost heiress to the Alston family, with a loving husband, a protective brother, and two beautiful twin daughters. My life was perfect.

But the day my daughters died in a fire, the two men I loved most didn't comfort me. They protected the woman responsible-Jorja, the one I was switched at birth with.

They locked me in a psychiatric ward, claiming I was insane with grief. They said Jorja was a hero who had once saved their lives, and they would protect her at all costs.

To save my last surviving daughter, who lay in a coma, they forced me to my knees. I had to publicly confess I was an unfit mother and that my children's deaths were my fault.

But it was all a lie. They let my last daughter die anyway, diverting her doctors to treat Jorja for a scratch on her wrist.

As I walked out of the hospital, carrying my daughter's cold body, my phone rang. It was a prosecutor.

"I saw your post," he said. "Do you still need a lawyer?"

Chapter 1

Krista Brown POV

The day my twin daughters burned to death, my husband and my brother chose the woman who set the fire.

My life had seemed perfect. I was the long-lost heiress to the Alston family. Elijah, my husband, was a top psychiatrist. Broderick, my brother, was a powerful corporate lawyer. Anna and Nora, my twin girls, were everything to me.

But perfection, I learned, was only a mask for betrayal.

I stood by the grand bay window in our Back Bay townhouse, watching the morning sun illuminate the Charles River. My life felt like that light—brilliant, expansive, completely secure.

Ten years ago, the Alston family discovered I was their true heiress, switched at birth with Jorja. They welcomed me back, showering me with love and privilege.

Today was our wedding anniversary.

Elijah walked in, handed me a single red rose. "Happy anniversary, my love."

Broderick called, his voice booming with affection, asking about the girls.

I had everything a woman could ever want.

Then my phone rang.

"Mrs. Drake, there's been an incident at the academy. It's Anna and Nora."

A fire. Their coach—Jorja Alston.

I met Elijah and Broderick at the hospital. Chaos. Firefighters. Grieving parents.

Then I saw them. Elijah and Broderick weren't looking for our daughters. They were standing near a private waiting area.

Talking to Jorja.

Her face was streaked with soot, her eyes wide—but surprisingly dry.

"Where are Anna and Nora?"

Elijah's face was unreadable. Broderick put a hand on Jorja's shoulder. A gesture of comfort meant for her.

"Krista," Elijah said, "there was an accident."

My daughters were gone. Smoke inhalation. The fire spread too quickly for them to escape.

I looked at Jorja, weeping softly into Broderick's chest.

"Jorja was their coach," I whispered. "How did this happen?"

"It was an accident," Broderick said. "Jorja tried to save them. She risked her own life."

"Risked her life? My daughters are dead!"

A nurse approached with a syringe. Elijah caught my eye—a silent command.

I thrashed. "No! My babies!"

The sedative hit. The world blurred.

I woke in a room with padded walls.

Not a hospital. A psychiatric ward.

Elijah stood over me. Broderick beside him. Jorja's presence like a phantom limb.

"You had a grief-induced psychotic break," Elijah said. "You were a danger to yourself."

"A danger? You locked me up!"

Broderick sighed. "Jorja saved our lives. She donated part of her liver. She's a hero. We owe her everything."

My mind reeled. Liver donation?

Elijah thrust a document into my hands. "Sign this settlement. It states this was a tragic accident."

My eyes scanned the cold, impersonal words describing my daughters' deaths as nothing more than an incident.

With trembling hands, I tore it to shreds.

Elijah grabbed my wrist. "Don't be foolish."

"What kind of family protects a killer?"

My voice rose. "Anna and Nora burned. I can hear their screams."

Then a thought—cold and unsettling.

"Jorja's liver donation… I don't remember that."

Broderick and Elijah exchanged a glance. A flicker of something I couldn't decipher passed between them.

The men I loved were hiding something. And I was trapped inside their walls.

But walls have doors. And I had just found the key.

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