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I sat up on the bed, my gaze carefully scanning the one room I had spent every day of my life until it settled on the family portrait hanging on the wall. A heavy sigh escaped my lips.
Years ago, I never knew I was adopted. I had always believed I was the biological daughter of the Nortons.
Sometimes, I even complained about my sister’s room being more beautiful than mine, never realizing the reason behind such subtle inequality.
When toys were bought, hers were a ...
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