Swapped Fate

6: Daisy Who?

In all the odd jobs I’d done in my life, not once had I thought of working in a mental asylum. But it seemed ‘Lady Fate’ whom so many humans revered, found it amusing to land me in one anyway.

My gaze travelled, with heightened wariness, from the hyperactive madam, to the daughter calmly and elegantly cutting and having her omelette, to the son gulping some red juice.

I’d often heard that the insane were those that looked the most normal. This was a daunting moment, and I needed to tread with caution.

“Alright, alright. First of all, my name is not Daisy and second of all, what!” I ended up losing it and going into hysterics.

Madam Felicity let out a little laugh at my reaction. “She’s surprised.”

“Of course she’s surprised, mother,” Lea’s soft voice said. “Anyone in her place would be.”

“Hmm. I suppose so,” Madam Felicity mused. “But hold on. What do you mean your name’s not Daisy?”

She looked at me with her brows scrunched together in confusion.

“Finally, we’re getting somewhere,” the stalker remarked, a smirk plastered on his swindlerish face. He still hadn’t looked at me once.

My heartbeat picked up as I recalled my own lie. I had shown up at their door pretending to be someone I wasn’t, and now I was in trouble. Perhaps, these people weren’t crazy and simply mistook me for the real Daisy.

“I’m not the person you’re looking for,” I informed them.

“Of course you are!” Madam Felicity averred with surprising adamance. “You wouldn’t be here in this house if you weren’t. The events of last night proved that you will indeed be the wife to my son and now we have to get you married.”

Last night? Events? Good heavens, did she mean him and I-!

The stalker – I think his mother call him Trissy – stood up abruptly, his chair making a scraping sound against the tiled floor. “I’m leaving,” he announced. “Whatever you do, mother, leave me out of it. I refuse, and will not get involved with this--” And his brown eyes, for the first time since I stepped into the dining room, met mine. His expression spelt nothing short of contempt and disgust. “--fraudster of a gold digger with loose morals.”

Anger seized my veins at his utterance.

“Trissy!” his mother scolded. Even though I found the name hilarious, I was too angry to let it tap my funny bone.

The rude punk snorted. “I don’t want to find her in this house by the time I get back,” he ordered and shoved his hands in his pockets, leaving the table to exit the room.

“Do not worry,” Madam Felicity gave me a reassuring smile. “You’re not going anywhere.”

She actually had the audacity to wink at me after her son insulted me. Her son, who had the guts to let me be lewd with him and then insult me for it. This whole family was gutsy. Well, except Lea. Then again, I couldn’t believe she had the guts to keep eating her breakfast with such unfazed elegance while all this hullaballoo was taking place.

“But I want to leave!” I argued, my eyes wide.

She pouted. “Dear, don’t say that. You have to stay and get married.”

“But why?” I whined in a breathless voice, my frustration growing. “Is this because...” I thought over her words.

Last night’s events.

I thought over his words, and the fact that I woke up in his bed.

My stomach churned as I whispered, “Is this because I slept with him?”