Petty Real Heiress

The real heiress of our family returned, armed with a brand of performative poverty so extreme she was determined to make us all suffer with her.
Our family had a chauffeured car to take us to school, but she refused to get in, insisting that my brother and I ride a rickety electric trike with her instead. When the trike inevitably flipped, my brother and I broke our arms shielding her from the fall.
At school, shed toss out the lavish lunches our chef prepared, only to produce stale bread and pickled vegetables from her bag, forcing us to join her in a life of "frugal simplicity." My brother, Dan, was a dancer; he fainted from hunger in the middle of rehearsal.
When we pleaded with our parents, theyd just sigh. "Sadie's had a hard life. She's a pitiful girl. Just try to be patient with her."
"Besides," theyd add, "frugality is a wonderful quality."
This continued until her official welcoming gala. She replaced all the fine wine with orange soda, the gourmet hors d'oeuvres with potato chips and spicy cheese puffs, and walked on stage wearing a faded, secondhand dress.
That was when our parents finally snapped. "Get that pathetic rag off you and throw it away! Who are you trying to look pitiful for?"
Dan and I burst into tears of relief and hugged each other. "They finally get it"

1
The day the real heiress, Sadie, came home, our whole family stood at the entrance to welcome her.
The town car pulled up, but Sadie didn't get out.
The driver approached us, looking troubled. "Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, the young miss refuses to ride in the car. She says it wastes gas and decided to walk home."
Dan and I exchanged a look of sheer horror.
It was a thirty-mile walk from the city!
If there were two people in the Sterling family who loved spending money, it was me and my brother, Dan. Our shared philosophy was simple: life is meant to be enjoyed, and money is the key.
He bought the latest sports cars; I bought the latest designer bags.
He bought top-of-the-line motorcycles; I bought couture gowns.
We were blissfully, unapologetically extravagant. If a destination was more than a block away, we took a car. Our family used to look at us with disdain for it.
Hearing the driver's words, my parents were stunned for a moment. Then, my mothers face broke into a pleased smile. "Frugality is a good thing. It's alright, we can wait."
Our older brother, Sterling, had no such patience. He turned on his heel and went back to his office.
Dan and I were about to make our own escape when our parents grabbed us. "You two stay right here. You could learn a thing or two from Sadie. Stop being so lazy all the time."
We waited. And waited. An entire day passed, and still no Sadie. Dinner had been reheated three times. Just as we were all about to starve to death, the doorbell rang.

2
The housekeeper opened the door.
There stood Sadie, dressed in patched clothes and carrying a massive woven plastic sack. After walking for over ten hours, her face was flushed a dark red and beaded with sweat.
Everyone rushed to greet her. My mother took the sack from her. It clinked and rattled, and she assumed it was luggage. "Sadie, dear, are these your things?"
The moment she opened it, a sour, musty stench hit us like a physical blow. Sterling, our older brother, who had just returned, frowned deeply, muttered an excuse about work, and promptly left again.
Dan couldn't hold back. "What the hell is that, a bag of trash? It reeks!"
Mom shot him a death glare. "Be quiet. Don't be rude."
Dan sulked, shooting me a helpless look.
Sadie, however, lifted her chin, her eyes defiant, and snatched the sack back. "These are soda cans I collected on the way. You can sell them for money. I hate waste more than anything."
She looked pointedly at all of us. "I hope everyone here can learn to be more frugal from now on."
My mother immediately gushed, "Sadie, you're so sensible." She then glanced at me and Dan. "Poppy, Dan, you two should learn from your sister instead of just eating and playing all day."
My father chimed in. "Frugality is excellent. Especially for you two. You need to learn its value." He then pulled out a credit card and offered it to Sadie. "Sadie, this is a little something for your allowance."
Sadie turned her head, glanced at the card, and sneered. "I despise the stench of money. Don't pollute me with such things."
The atmosphere turned instantly awkward. No one in the Sterling family had ever disliked money. My father awkwardly retracted the card. "Well, let's have dinner then."

3
At the dining table, which was laden with lavish dishes, Sadie's face fell. She slammed her chopsticks down.
"I don't approve of such extravagance. Do you have any plain bread? I'll have that."
I couldn't help myself. "But there's so much wonderful food here. Why would you eat plain bread? Wouldn't letting all this go to waste be even more wasteful?"
My parents quickly agreed. "There's so much to eat, dear. Please, have some of this."
Sadie looked down her nose at me. "Not everyone is as shamelessly wasteful as a spoiled fake princess like you."
My eyes widened in shock. "Fake princess?"
Sadie stood up, towering over me with moral superiority. "Even though you stole my parents from me, I don't blame you. You can continue to live here. Of course, I don't like drama and just want to focus on my studies. I hope you'll refrain from bothering me."
I blinked and looked at Dan. He looked like he was trying to solve a complex math problem while severely constipated.
Finally, he spoke up. "Sadie, this is your biological sister, Poppy. She's a year older than you. Don't you remember her?"
My parents' faces were also a little strained. Sadie was four when she was lost. It was strange that she wouldn't remember her own sister.
Sadie looked shocked for a second, then her expression smoothed back into one of calm indifference. "I was switched at birth. How could I possibly remember?"
Dan and I just stared at each other.
In the end, Sadie ate a large, dry roll and drank a bowl of cold water. The rest of the family picked at the gourmet feast, the loud slurping of her water making the whole meal incredibly awkward.
We finally survived dinner. But the next morning, when it was time for school, Dan and I were in for a true shock.

4
Sadie stood in front of the chauffeured car, her brow furrowed, refusing to get in. "I will not ride in that. It's a waste of gas and money."
My mother tried to reason with her patiently. "Sadie, honey, we're not short on money."
Sadie just shook her head, her chin held high. "I don't like waste. Having money isn't a license to be extravagant. If they want to ride, let them. I'll walk to school myself."
My parents looked stressed. "But it's your first day. How can you walk?"
My mother then turned to me and Dan. "Why don't you two walk with Sadie to school?"
"WHAT?" Dan and I yelled in unison.
Mom sighed. "It's two and a half miles that is a bit far."
Just then, an old man on a motorized tricycle puttered past the end of our driveway. Sadie's eyes lit up. She pointed. "We can take that! And we'll be helping that old man earn some money."
My parents looked at Sadie with pure admiration.
Dan and I looked at each other in pure misery.
The three of us, all high school students, squeezed onto the tiny trike. The whole vehicle swayed precariously. Even on a perfectly flat road, it felt like we were adrift at sea, lost and helpless. Every time we went over a speed bump, it felt like a direct assault on my spine.
The old man up front kept shouting, "Whoa, whoa, you're leaning left! Everybody lean right!" And then, "Hey, hey, don't move, don't move!"
Dan and I were so terrified we were barely breathing. How could we possibly be moving?
"Now you're too far right! Lean left, lean left lean"
The trike flipped.
Instinctively, Dan and I threw our arms around Sadie to protect her.
His left arm was broken. My right arm was broken.
Sadie simply stood up, dusted herself off, and turned to leave. "You two wait here. I can't neglect my studies. I'm going to school."
And she left the two of us, with our broken arms, to cry together on the pavement.
When the police arrived, the old man, trembling, finally got to his feet, tears streaming down his face. "I was just out for a little spin! This girl flagged me down, insisted that a trike was more economical and that I had to take the three of them to school. I'm almost eighty! I don't need the six bucks!"
In the end, my parents came, bought the man a new trike, and gave him a hefty sum for his troubles.

5
Breaking my arm did have one upside: I didn't have to do any homework.
Dan, who had been held back a year, was in my grade. When he found out, he was furious. "No fair! My arm is broken too! I can't do my homework either!"
Our homeroom teacher just tapped him on the head with a notebook. "You broke your left arm. I'll be checking your work tomorrow."
Dan glared at me from his desk with a look of pure, unadulterated envy. I just gave him a smug, provocative smile back.
My parents insisted that since Sadie was new and had no friends, Dan and I had to have lunch with her every day. If we didn't, theyd cut off our allowances. This was a tragedy. A new designer bag I'd been dreaming of had just been released. Dan was eyeing a new motorcycle.
So, we dutifully went to find Sadie for lunch.
At noon, our housekeeper arrived with a lavish spread delivered from home. Before she could even set it all out, Sadie shot up from her seat. "I will not eat such a wasteful meal. This is pure indulgence. Mrs. Liu, please give all of this to the homeless people outside."
Dan and I were aghast. "What homeless people?"
"Well, then give it to a poor family," Sadie declared. "I brought my own lunch. I can share it with my brother and sister. There are children starving in the mountains who need this more than we do."
At her insistence, Mrs. Liu packed up the feast.
Dan and I exchanged frantic looks.
Me: What is she talking about? This is Silveridge Heights. How are we supposed to send this to 'children in the mountains'? And who would accept a random meal from strangers? What is going on in her head?
Dan: No idea. And when did she pack a lunch?
Me: I don't know either. Please don't let it be
We both turned to look at Sadie. She slowly pulled three hard, crusty rolls from her backpack and placed them on the table. Then, she produced several packets of pickled vegetables.
"Brother, sister, I dislike waste. From now on, we will be frugal together. Every little bit counts. I even brought pickles in case you aren't used to just plain bread."
She then shoved the rolls and pickles into our hands.
And so it went. For a month straight. One stale roll, a cup of hot water, and a packet of pickles for lunch every single day. The school didn't have a cafeteria, and we weren't allowed to bring in outside snacks.
By the afternoon, Dan and I were often dizzy with hunger.
One day, Dan went to the dance studio to practice his stretches, his arm still in a sling. He fainted mid-pli.
I ran over and held his semi-conscious form, sobbing hysterically. "What kind of 'real heiress' is this? She doesn't want money or love, she just wants to torture people! Dan, if you die, what am I going to do all alone?"
He managed to open his eyes and pat my head with his good hand. "Poppy, don't cry. I'm not dead yet. I'm here with you."
Just then, a sound like a thunderclap echoed through the studio. It was his stomach. And then he passed out for real.

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