My Mother Killed Me For Her Stepdaughter novel Chapter 57

"My name is Elisa. I'm your future child, ten years old." Elisa sat on the sofa, swinging her legs with a sweet smile, dimples forming on her cheeks.

She's my child? From the future? And she even has my last name?

The weight of her words hit me like a storm, leaving my mind blank. Could this really be some kind of scam?

Seeing my doubt, she continued, "If you don't believe me, we can do a DNA test." Then she hopped off the sofa, gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek, and said, "I'm going to take a bath."

Later, as I lay in bed, with Elisa tightly wrapped around me, my mind was still foggy. From the moment I met her, I felt a strange resemblance, a connection I couldn't explain. Drowsily, I drifted off, only to slip into a nightmare.

In my dream, someone kept hitting me—sometimes with a bottle, sometimes with a broom. No matter the weapon, the blows were relentless, as if they held a boundless grudge against me.

"You worthless fool, you're good for nothing!" A towering, angry figure stood over me, its face blurred as I cowered on the ground, begging.

"Please… please, stop…"

I woke up drenched in cold sweat, shaken. When I opened my eyes, Elisa was already up, having prepared breakfast for me.

"You said you had a mission coming here?" I asked.

"It's a secret," she replied slyly, eyes sparkling like a mischievous little fox.

Only then did I notice the long sleeves she wore, unusual for the summer heat.

"I'm allergic to UV rays; I'm used to it," she explained. My heart ached for her; no wonder she looked smaller and frailer than other kids her age.

Just as I was about to say more, a message notification popped up on my phone. It was Andrew, asking if I needed him to take Elisa to the police station.

Elisa froze for a second, then looked at me with a pitiful expression. "Right now, I don't have an identity. If they take me, I can't come back."

"Don't worry, Caroline. I'll make sure your parents trust me to take care of you," he said, pressing my hand to his chest, sincerity evident in his eyes.

I was deeply moved. How could someone like him be a scammer?

"No! I absolutely won't allow it! I didn't raise you to run off to some remote village to raise chickens and ducks in poverty! If you insist on being with him, don't bother coming back home!" My father's furious outburst shattered a plate on the floor, his finger pointing angrily at me. Even my mother shook her head disapprovingly.

Andrew's face flushed, his hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white. "Please, give me a chance. I would never let Caroline suffer!"

"Hah, don't think I don't know what you're after. Stop dreaming! I've seen enough of your type!"

The scorn hit like a slap. "Dad," I pleaded, hoping to reason with him, "we truly love each other—"

"Love? You're a fool, selling yourself out and counting the money for him. How ridiculous!" My father, who'd always been proud of me, was now seething with anger over my relationship with Andrew. Helplessly, I looked to my mother for support, but she only turned away.