1.The True Heiress’s First Silent Day!

"Are you Sophia?"

In the Richmond household, on a solemnly colored sofa, the elderly lady Eleanor stared at Sophia with a serious expression.

In stark contrast to her stern face, Eleanor’s hand gently stroked the hair of a young girl sitting in her lap. The girl glanced briefly at Sophia, then quickly turned her head away, her eyes red and filled with unshed tears.

"You look a lot like your father, long arms and legs," the old lady commented offhandedly, her eyes shifting slightly toward the side. "This is your mother."

Sophia had already seen her.

The woman sitting next to Eleanor looked poised and gentle, radiating warmth and grace.

Sophia’s gaze softened as she locked eyes with the woman, her heart quickening. She opened her mouth to speak, her voice ready to call out, "Mom," but before she could, a wail of sorrow shattered the moment.

"Mom!"

The girl in Eleanor’s lap suddenly turned her head and rushed into the woman’s arms, her small body trembling.

The woman immediately embraced her, her voice filled with concern. "Bella, what’s wrong? Why are you crying all of a sudden? No one’s going to take your mom away, right, Sophia?"

Sophia swallowed hard, her throat tight. She stood frozen in the center of the grand hall, her gaze meeting Eleanor’s, which held a touch of impatience and unspoken judgment. Her mother, Margaret, looked at her with a complicated mix of guilt, avoidance, and something that seemed almost apologetic.

Sophia's heart sank. The strange, uncomfortable glances from the gathered guests only made her feel more out of place.

Was she in the right family? Was this really her place?

A week ago, someone claiming to be the Richmond Family’s assistant had appeared in her small southern town, dragging her into a paternity test. When the results came back, they confirmed she was the lost third daughter of the Richmond Family.

The days that followed were a blur of introductions and lessons on family etiquette, each moment feeling more like an overwhelming rush of rules and distant relatives than a warm reunion. The assistant had spent an entire week instructing her, and today, they finally brought her through the gates of the Richmond Family estate.

She had expected a reunion filled with joy, albeit a little awkward. But the scene before her?

Sophia's gaze shifted back to the girl nestled in Margaret’s arms. She was silent, her face pale with distress. It suddenly hit Sophia like a cold wave: *I’m the fake one here, aren’t I?*

"Why aren’t you speaking? Are you too tired?" Eleanor’s voice cut through her thoughts, her gaze sharp and disapproving. Without waiting for a response, she motioned toward the stairs. "You should go rest. Your room is ready. Tonight’s party will be a long one, and you’ll need to meet everyone. You don’t want to look tired."

Sophia nodded blankly, her thoughts swirling in confusion and unease.

Before she could turn to leave, Eleanor’s voice softened, though the weight of her words was heavy. "You’re new here, so you don’t understand the rules yet. You should learn them from your sister Isabella. Tonight, I’ll formally introduce you to her—Isabella, your sister, has been taking care of the elders in your place until now."

Eleanor gently patted the back of the girl in Margaret’s arms, her gaze locked onto Sophia, as if expecting some kind of response.

"You should be thankful to her."

Sophia lowered her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest. The sunlight that filtered through the window seemed to illuminate the tiny mole on her left cheek, making her look fragile, almost delicate. A sense of coldness washed over her. Was she truly supposed to feel thankful?

Not saying a word, she followed the butler out of the room.

---

The room they led her to was said to be the largest and best-lit in the entire Richmond estate, personally decorated by Margaret.

Yet, as Sophia stood there, taking in the space, the sunlight streaming through the windows, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was a room no one really wanted. Sure, the lighting was beautiful, but in the scorching summer heat, even the air conditioning couldn’t fully escape the oppressive warmth.

She pulled the curtains closed, grabbed her suitcase, and collapsed onto the bed, her mind racing.

Ten minutes later, a sharp knock on the door interrupted her uneasy sleep.

"It’s me!" A cheerful voice rang from outside. "Sophia, Mom asked me to bring you some fruit!"

Sophia’s brows furrowed. The girl who had just been crying in her mother's arms now seemed so eager to deliver fruit?

Confused, she got up and opened the door, only to be met with a bright, almost artificial smile.

Isabella stepped in, holding a tray of fruit. But the moment the door clicked shut, the smile evaporated, replaced by a cold, calculating expression.

Sophia blinked, unsure how to respond.

"So, how do you like your new room?" Isabella asked as she placed the tray on the table, her voice dripping with pride as she walked around the spacious room. There was an undeniable air of superiority in the way she carried herself, as if she had claimed ownership of this place. "Bet you’ve never lived in a place like this, huh?"

Sophia hesitated, her mind still processing everything, before nodding slowly.

Isabella's lips curled into a mocking smirk. "But this is all there is."

She stepped closer, and Sophia could feel the tension rise in the air. Isabella’s expression twisted into something darker, almost malevolent.

"I’ll tell you this once," Isabella's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, "In this family, everything is mine."

"Eleanor is mine. Mom and Dad are mine. I’ve had these things for twenty years. You think you can waltz in here and take them because of a bit of bloodline?"

Sophia’s heart raced as she heard the venom in Isabella’s voice, the hatred bubbling beneath her words. "Sophia, right?"

"Do you know why you were brought back here?" Isabella’s voice turned harsh, full of spite. "It’s not because they love you, or because they want you back. It’s because they need you for the marriage with the Carrington Family. I will *never* marry a cripple! And they’re too soft to force me, so they had no choice but to bring you back!"

"So, do you get it now? You’re here because of me!"

Isabella leaned in, her words sharp, every syllable a threat. "But don’t get any ideas. I don’t need your thanks."

"You think you waltzed into the Richmond Family with all the grace of a princess? Just wait until I make you regret it. You’ll be kicked out so fast, you won’t even see it coming!"

"None of this belongs to you—not even a speck of dust!"

---

Sophia stood still, her body tense, her eyes fixed on Isabella. For a moment, she felt the weight of the situation—the overwhelming anger and resentment in Isabella’s words. But there was something else, something deeper stirring inside her.

The summer sun beat down, and Sophia’s thoughts flickered back to the advice Dean Harris had given her.

\[Sophia, remember this—if you truly want to find a real family and genuine love, the key in the Richmond Family is to say as little as possible!]

\[Promise me, if you don’t want to be thrown out on your first day, *you must* keep quiet! Don’t say a word, even if they think you’re mute or strange. Silence is your best weapon here!]

—"Why aren’t you speaking? Don’t believe me?"

Isabella took another step forward, her expression twisted in malice. "Don’t worry, you’ll learn soon enough what it means to be nothing more than a pawn in this game. Tonight at the party, I’ll watch you make a fool of yourself."

With that, she slammed the door shut.

Sophia stood there for a long time, her mind a whirl of emotions. Her hand trembled as she reached into her bag and pulled out a small sketchbook.

She began to draw quickly, her pencil dancing across the page, sketching two grotesque witches, their poses comical and absurd.

When she finished, she took a quick photo with her phone and uploaded the image to her secondary account online.