All Exposed by Bullet Comments

Just as I was about to smash the ashtray over my sister’s head, a string of comments flashed before my eyes. [Seriously? Plot-induced stupidity? Why would anyone treat a fake sister better than their real one?] [Right? And isn’t she supposed to be a badass CEO? Can’t even spot this basic setup?] [There’s literally surveillance footage. Just pull it up.] My hand slowly loosened around the ashtray. It was like a veil in my brain had been ripped away, and everything suddenly clicked into place. Of course. The girl in front of me, Christie Ferguson, was my real sister. She had been switched at birth and raised in hardship. And yet, not once had she blamed anyone. Ever since she came home, she’d gone out of her way to treat everyone with kindness. And what had we done? Showered a fake heiress with love while treating the real one like dirt. “Don’t be mad, sis,” the imposter sniffled prettily, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Christie didn’t mean to steal my designs…” I slapped her hard, and the room fell silent in shock. “Well, I didn’t mean for my hand to land on your face either,” I said calmly.