Emma had exactly thirty-seven minutes to prepare for the performance of her lifetime.
She'd spent the morning doing reconnaissance—charming information out of nurses, studying her reflection, and scrolling through Sophia's phone (thankfully unlocked with facial recognition). The device was a treasure trove of information: bitter text exchanges with family members, passive-aggressive social media posts, and a concerning number of photos where original Sophia looked like she was auditioning for "Mean Girls: The Musical."
The most recent scandal was still trending on entertainment blogs. Three days ago, Sophia had gotten into a very public confrontation with rising actress Melody Zhang during a charity fashion show. The headlines were brutal: "Starlight Heiress Goes Ballistic," "Sophia Chen's Latest Meltdown," and Emma's personal favorite, "When Rich Girls Attack: A Documentary in Real Time."
According to the articles, Sophia had "viciously attacked" Melody for allegedly stealing her ex-boyfriend, creating a scene that went viral within hours. The video showed Sophia screaming accusations while Melody played the perfect victim, tears streaming down her face as security pulled them apart.
But Emma had read enough romance novels to recognize a green tea bitch when she saw one. In the video, you could see Melody's satisfied smirk just before the cameras focused on her. The girl had clearly orchestrated the whole thing.
Classic setup, Emma thought, scrolling through the comments that universally painted Sophia as the villain. Too bad original Sophia was too blinded by rage to play it smart.
The sound of expensive heels clicking down the hallway made Emma quickly close the phone and arrange herself into what she hoped looked like a appropriately chastened pose. She'd practiced her expression in the mirror—humble but not broken, sorry but not pathetic.
The door opened, and the Chen family filed in like they were walking into a board meeting rather than visiting their injured daughter.
Emma's breath caught. They were even more intimidating in person than she'd imagined.
David Chen entered first, his presence immediately commanding the room. At fifty-two, he had the kind of distinguished silver-at-the-temples look that screamed "media mogul." His suit probably cost more than Emma's entire previous wardrobe, and his expression was carefully neutral—the face of a man who'd learned not to show emotion until he knew which way the wind was blowing.
Elena Chen followed, and Emma understood immediately why she'd been called a legendary actress. Even in simple designer clothes, she moved with unconscious grace, her beauty the kind that had probably launched a thousand magazine covers. Her dark hair was pulled back in an elegant chignon, and her eyes—Sophia's eyes, Emma realized—held a careful distance that spoke of years of disappointment.
Then came the brothers, and Emma had to resist the urge to whistle appreciatively. The novel descriptions hadn't done them justice.
Marcus, the eldest at twenty-nine, looked like he'd stepped out of a Hollywood board room. His dark suit was immaculate, his expression cold and assessing. He had their father's commanding presence but with an edge that suggested he'd earned his position through ruthlessness rather than inheritance.
Liam followed quietly, his twenty-six years evident in the more relaxed way he carried himself. Where Marcus was sharp angles, Liam was understated elegance. His hair was slightly longer, falling into eyes that seemed to see everything. Emma had read he was a musical genius, and she could see it in the way he moved—like he was hearing melodies the rest of the world couldn't.
Julian, twenty-four and devastatingly handsome, walked in like he was on a runway. His styling was impeccable, from his perfectly tousled hair to his designer jeans that probably cost more than a car. He had a smile that could sell magazines, but Emma could see the wariness underneath.
Finally, Ethan, the youngest at twenty-two, slouched in with the kind of barely contained attitude that screamed "rising actor with opinions." His hair was artfully messy, his clothes stylishly rumpled, and his expression openly hostile. If looks could kill, Emma would have been back in the afterlife filing a complaint.
The silence stretched for a long moment, everyone seeming to wait for someone else to speak first.
Emma took a breath and deployed her secret weapon: customer service training.
"Hi," she said softly, her voice carrying just the right note of vulnerability. "I... I know you're probably angry with me."
Elena's composure cracked slightly, maternal instinct overriding disappointment. She moved closer to the bed, her hand hovering uncertainly before settling on Emma's forehead to check for fever.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Elena asked, her voice warm despite the careful distance in her eyes.
Sweetheart. Emma's heart clenched unexpectedly. When was the last time someone had called her that? She'd been on her own for so long, she'd forgotten what parental concern felt like.
"Better," Emma managed, leaning slightly into the touch. "The doctors say I can go home tomorrow."
"About time," Ethan muttered from the corner. "The vultures outside are having a field day with this whole thing."
Marcus shot him a warning look. "Ethan."
"What? I'm just saying what everyone's thinking. Another Sophia Chen scandal, another media circus. At least this time she only hurt herself."
Emma felt the familiar sting of rejection—not because Ethan was wrong about original Sophia, but because his dismissal reminded her too much of every foster family who'd decided she wasn't worth the trouble.
But this time, she had a plan.
"You're right," she said quietly, causing everyone to look at her in surprise. Sophia Chen admitting fault? That was new. "I know I messed up. Again."
David cleared his throat. "Sophia, we've talked about this behavior before—"
"I know," Emma interrupted gently. "And I know saying sorry doesn't fix anything. I've said it before and then gone right back to making the same mistakes." She met each of their eyes in turn, letting them see the sincerity there. "But I want you to know that I... I've been thinking. A lot. About everything."
Julian raised an eyebrow. "Thinking about what, exactly?"
Emma had spent years watching other people's families, studying what made them work. She knew the Chen family dynamics from the novel, but more importantly, she understood what they were missing: honest communication.
"About how lucky I am," she said simply. "About how I've taken everything for granted. The company Dad built, the reputation Mom earned, the careers you've all worked so hard for... and how my behavior reflects on all of that."
She could see the skepticism in their eyes, but also a flicker of hope that they were trying to suppress.
"The thing with Melody," Emma continued, "I handled it completely wrong. I let my emotions control me instead of thinking about the consequences. Not just for me, but for Starlight Entertainment, for our family's reputation."
"Sophia," Elena said softly, "what happened that day? Really happened?"
Emma had studied the video footage carefully. Original Sophia had been sloppy, emotional, playing right into Melody's hands. But Emma could see what had really happened—the subtle provocations, the calculated timing, the way Melody had positioned herself perfectly for the cameras.
"Melody did take pictures with Ryan," Emma said carefully, referring to Sophia's ex-boyfriend. "She made sure I saw them. And when I confronted her about it, she... she said some things about our family. About how we'd never accept someone like her because she wasn't born into wealth."
Liam straightened slightly. "What kind of things?"
"She called you all pretentious and said Starlight Entertainment only succeeded because of nepotism and connections, not talent." Emma let a hint of genuine anger creep into her voice. "She said I was just a spoiled princess who'd never earned anything in my life."
The family exchanged glances. That rang more true than the media's version of events.
"But that doesn't excuse how I reacted," Emma continued quickly. "I should have walked away. Should have handled it privately, or better yet, not at all. Ryan wasn't worth defending, and getting into a public fight only proved her point about me being immature."
Marcus was studying her with sharp eyes. "You're taking responsibility."
"I'm trying to," Emma said. "I know I've disappointed you all so many times that words don't mean much anymore. But I want to do better. I want to be someone you can be proud of."
The silence that followed was different from before—less hostile, more uncertain.
"Sweetheart," Elena said carefully, "you've said things like this before..."
"I know," Emma nodded. "And I know you have no reason to believe me. So I'm not asking you to. I'm just asking for a chance to show you instead of tell you."
David looked at his wife, some silent communication passing between them. Twenty-five years of marriage had given them a shorthand that even Emma's customer service skills couldn't fully decode.
"The discharge papers are ready for tomorrow morning," Elena said finally. "You'll come home with us."
It wasn't forgiveness, but it wasn't rejection either. Emma would take it.
"Thank you," she said sincerely.
Ethan was still scowling, but Julian looked thoughtful. Liam was watching her with the careful attention of someone trying to solve a puzzle. Marcus remained unreadable.
"There will be paparazzi," Marcus warned. "The story is still trending. You'll need to be prepared for questions."
Emma nodded. "What would you suggest?"
The question seemed to surprise him. Original Sophia had never asked for advice, especially not from her brothers.
"Keep your head down, don't engage, let security handle it," Julian answered when Marcus didn't respond immediately. "And maybe don't wear anything too flashy. The optics matter."
"Noted," Emma said with a small smile. "Humble discharge outfit, got it."
Elena's lips quirked slightly at the corners. "I'll have something appropriate sent over."
As visiting hours wound down, the family began to file out. Elena lingered, adjusting Emma's blankets with the kind of unconscious maternal care that made Emma's chest tight.
"Mom?" Emma said softly.
Elena paused, her hand stilling on the blanket. Sophia rarely called her that anymore.
"I'm really sorry. For everything."
Elena searched her face for a long moment, then leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Emma's forehead.
"Rest well, sweetheart. Tomorrow's a new day."
As the door closed behind them, Emma could hear their voices fading down the hallway. She caught fragments: "...seemed different..." "...could be another manipulation..." "...want to believe her, but..."
Emma settled back into her pillows, emotionally exhausted but hopeful. She'd managed the first hurdle—they were taking her home. Now came the hard part: proving that Sophia Chen could be someone worth loving.
Her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: "Enjoy your pity party while it lasts. Some of us know the real you. - M"
Emma deleted the message without a second thought. Melody Zhang was yesterday's problem. Tomorrow, she had a family to win over and a reputation to rebuild.
But first, she needed to figure out how to be rich without accidentally revealing she'd never owned anything nicer than a secondhand smartphone.
One crisis at a time, Emma thought, closing her eyes. Tomorrow, I become Sophia Chen for real.
Outside her window, the city lights twinkled like stars, and for the first time in either of her lives, Emma felt like she was exactly where she belonged.