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Emilia,

A week had passed since my encounter with Mrs. Grey, and still no word. Part of me hoped she'd eventually reach out, but the larger part took it as a sign to move on.

I couldn't keep waiting for the Greys while my family sank deeper into debt. I had to do something, which is why I had another job interview lined up for the morning.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and left my room. I was spending the weekend with my family, a much-needed respite from the stress of job hunting.

Entering the kitchen, I found Mom making dinner. The aroma of her signature Apple lasagna filled the air. Downstairs, my little brother Jason was engrossed in a PlayStation game with his school friends, their excited shouts drifting up the stairs.

"Hey, mija," Mom said with a faint smile. The dark circles under her eyes betrayed her exhaustion. It broke my heart to see her like this, knowing I couldn't do much to help.

I smiled back and started helping with dinner, chopping potatoes while she prepared the sauce

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I smiled back and started helping with dinner,
chopping potatoes while she prepared the sauce.

"Mija," she called softly.

I looked up. "Yes?"

She reached out and squeezed my hand. "Are you happy?" Her eyes were stormy as if she'd been crying.

"Of course, Mom," I lied, forcing a smile.

"Mija, you don't have to pretend with me." She looked away for a moment. "I know things haven't been great lately, but I don't want you and Jason to worry. I'm handling everything... okay? Don't worry about us."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

She studied me for a moment before turning back to the stove. If only she knew how much it killed me that I couldn't do more to help.

"Jason, dinner's ready!" Mom's voice echoed through the house. Within seconds, Jason came bounding down the stairs, claiming his favorite chair next to mine.

At thirteen, Jason was the spitting image of our father – midnight dark curly hair, tanned skin, and ocean-blue eyes. I, on the other hand, took after Mom with my freckled skin and red hair.

"Are you working tonight?" Jason asked as Mom set the steaming dish on the table.

"You know I have to, honey," she replied, her voice nearly cracking. "But I made your favorite – lasagna."

"Thanks, Mom," we chorused as we dug in.

"It's amazing, Mom!" Jason exclaimed, shoveling another forkful into his mouth.

She chuckled. "Careful, you'll burn your tongue."

I noticed the sadness lingering in her eyes but decided not to press. She'd never admit if something was wrong anyway.

After dinner, Jason raced back upstairs while I helped Mom with the dishes. Exhausted, I retreated to my room and collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

4:30 AM

My phone's buzz jolted me awake. It was a text from my friend Josh, reminding me about the interview. I groaned, tossed the phone aside, and burrowed back under the covers for a few more precious minutes of sleep.

When my alarm blared an hour later, I dragged myself out of bed. I had just enough time to get ready for the interview.

I was blow-drying my hair when I heard voices downstairs. Curious, I finished getting ready and headed to the living room.

"Mom?" I called out.

An unfamiliar woman sat on our couch, sipping coffee. As she turned, my heart nearly stopped.

Mrs. Grey!

"Miss Clark, I believe we've met?" she said coolly.

"Mija, are you okay?" Mom asked concern etched on her face.

"Yes..." I stammered, my knees weak at the thought of my parents discovering my surrogacy plan.

Before I could say more, Mrs. Grey cut in smoothly. "Miss Clark will be working as my assistant. She seems quite fertile for the job."

I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

Mom's expression was guarded. "You didn't tell me you applied for another job, mija."

You don't know the half of it, Mom!

I forced a smile. "It must have slipped my mind."

Mrs. Grey stood, setting down her cup. "I should be going. Miss Clark, are you ready? I have the car waiting for our meeting with the lawyer."

I nodded, then turned to hug Mom tightly. "See you next weekend," I whispered, not wanting to let go.

"Be safe, mija," she murmured, squeezing me back before releasing me.

Outside, a fleet of black limousines filled our modest driveway. Mrs. Grey's impatient voice snapped me back to reality. "I don't have all day, Miss Clark."

Taking a deep breath, I slid into the nearest car. As we pulled away, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was about to sign my soul away to the devil.

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Much love,
Dera

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