The suffocating July heat inside Crestwood Penitentiary made every breath feel like swallowing molten lead. Isabella Watson - formerly Isabella Morgan - instinctively tugged her sleeve down to conceal the ring-shaped scar on her forearm when the guard's voice echoed through the corridor. "Watson! Your ride from the Morgan family is here!" Her fingers froze mid-motion. That name - Morgan - left a familiar bitter taste in her mouth. Once, she'd been their beloved daughter. Everything shattered four years ago when police arrived at Highland Manor with Sophia Morgan, Edward and Victoria's biological daughter. Overnight, Isabella became an imposter. A fraud. Her real parents were long dead. The Morgans had kept her for appearances, claiming she remained family. But anyone who'd witnessed seventeen years of their neglect knew better. Edward and Victoria cared more about board meetings than birthday parties. She'd always been more houseguest than daughter. Then Sophia arrived, becoming their entire universe. Then came the Luminous Gems incident. Sophia stole a priceless heirloom and framed Isabella. An obvious setup, yet the Morgans believed their golden child without question. They even helped, making public accusations so vicious Isabella never stood a chance. Luminous Gems belonged to the Sterling Group - Crestmont's equivalent of royalty. The Morgans wouldn't risk their standing for an adopted daughter. They erased "Morgan" from Isabella's name, told the world she was a Watson charity case, and delivered her straight to prison. The memory made Isabella's nails dig crescent moons into her palms. Four years incarcerated for Sophia's crime. Today, that sentence ended. Outside the gates, reporters sweltered in the heat, cameras poised. When the iron doors groaned open, Isabella emerged in the same clothes she'd worn during her arrest. Victoria spotted her and rushed forward with Oscar-worthy tears, reporters closing in like vultures. Isabella nearly scoffed aloud. "My darling girl, I've come to take you home," Victoria choked out, dabbing nonexistent tears. Nearby journalists murmured sympathetically. Isabella's icy stare could've frozen hell. "You're mistaken, Mrs. Morgan. I'm no daughter of yours." Victoria's mask slipped before quickly reforming. "After everything we've done for you? Seventeen years under our roof—" "A roof you kicked me out from," Isabella countered. "Four years ago, you called me a Watson. Signed the disownment papers yourself. Sent me to rot in here without blinking." "Framed?" The word detonated among the press. Microphones jabbed forward like weapons. Cornered by cameras, Victoria swallowed her fury. Then Lucas Morgan's voice cut through the chaos. "What lies are you spinning now, Isabella? The Sterling heirloom was in your bag when security caught you! After everything we've endured to collect you today—" "Endured?" Isabella's laugh held no mirth. Lucas, once her protective big brother, had shoved her to the ground during her "confession." The table's edge had split her arm open, leaving the scar she now hid. That "evidence"? Sophia had slipped it into Isabella's purse during a bathroom break. Young and naive, Isabella had trusted Sophia's honeyed words and fake friendship. She'd never imagined such calculated cruelty from someone who seemed so fragile. The motive was simple - Sophia saw her as competition. So she eliminated the threat. That day stripped Isabella's last illusions about the Morgans. Now, betrayal had tempered her heart into steel. "She's still angry with me..." Sophia clung to Lucas, trembling like a leaf in a storm. Tears streaked her porcelain cheeks. "Isabella, I never meant to take your place—" "Enough!" Victoria hissed at Lucas, eyeing the cameras. Damage control mode activated, she told the press, "Isabella needs time to adjust. If she shows remorse, our door remains open." Isabella's bitter laugh silenced the crowd. "Remind me, Mrs. Morgan - which legal document severed our ties permanently? Or do you enjoy rewriting history?"