She looked at her with that certain demeanor, and then thought of how she looked nothing like the Smith couple, already somewhat convinced in her heart.
In the end, she did a DNA test with the woman and confirmed that she really was the biological daughter of that rustic woman.
The woman also took her to their home in San Francisco, that small house of just a few dozen square meters, the hooligan youth lying on the sofa, the cigarette butts and meal boxes scattered everywhere, and the lingering smell of food scraps in the room nearly made her vomit.
She couldn't imagine what her life would be like if the Smith Family found out she was an impostor and kicked her out, and she'd have to live in such a small house without even a room for her.
Housework would have to be done by her; she might even have to wash clothes and cook for that lazy brother and earn money to help him get a wife.
Just the thought of it was enough to drive her mad.
