From Mockery to Pleas in the Apocalypse
Language: en
On my very first day back with my obscenely wealthy biological family, I maxed out the million dollar compensation card my mother gave me. Cinda, the fake daughter who had lived my life, doubled over in laughter looking at the mountain of rice, flour, and cooking oil piled in the courtyard. "Are you trying to turn the estate into a wholesale warehouse? The Sinclair mansion isn't a refugee camp." My biological brother, Preston, kicked over a box of MREs I had just unloaded. "You really can't teach trash to be classy. You get a little bit of cash and instantly buy this garbage. You country…