The Mom Swap

After I started high school, my mom gave me a ten-thousand-dollar monthly allowance.
My desk mate, consumed by envy, tricked me into swapping our souls.
She ran towards the luxury town car, ecstatic. A rich mommy! You're all mine now!
I quietly slung her worn-out backpack over my shoulder, got on the back of her mom's electric scooter, and let out a silent sigh of relief.
Thank God. I'm finally free of my mother.

1.
Just before the last bell, Marie Jensen handed me a smoothie. "It's my first time buying you something. I saved up for two weeks to get the most expensive one. I hope you like it."
I hesitated for a moment before taking it politely, sipping it a couple of times. It was strawberry, my favorite. "Thanks, it's really good."
The words had barely left my lips when a flash of white light blinded me. When I opened my eyes, I was staring at myself. We had swapped bodies.
"Marie, you—"
"Shh," she hissed, her eyes gleaming with triumph from inside my body. "You're Marie now. From today on, I'm Anna Sterling. And the rich mommy? She's all mine."

2.
Staring at the ecstatic new me, it all clicked.
A few weeks ago, she'd borrowed money for a smoothie and had accidentally seen the seven-figure balance in my bank account. She’d stared, counting the zeroes over and over.
"Anna, how do you have so much money?"
"My mom gives me ten thousand a month. It just adds up."
"Your mom… she's so rich. What does she do?"
"She owns a few companies."
"Wow, that's incredible! You're so lucky!" Marie had complained between sips. "My mom's a stay-at-home mom, and she's so cheap. She only gives me five dollars a day for lunch. That’s why I had to borrow from you."
I listened quietly, my eyes fixed on the smoothie in her hand. The truth was, I envied her.
Because after I turned ten, I never had another smoothie. And I never tasted happiness again.

3.
After that day, Marie constantly told me how sick she was of her mother, how much she wished she could be my mom's daughter. I thought it was just a passing fantasy. I never imagined she would actually use a soul-swapping trick to steal her.
"Just accept it, Anna. We can never switch back."
While I was still in shock, Marie—in my body—downed the rest of the doctored smoothie and sprinted towards the black town car that picked me up every day.
Watching her giddy figure disappear, I slowly shouldered her old backpack, found her mom's electric scooter in the crowd, and felt a wave of relief wash over me.
Thank God. I'm finally free of my mother.

4.
"Marie, honey, you look happy today. Did something good happen?"
Marie's mom handed me a helmet. She wasn't wearing any makeup, just an old black jacket and worn-out sandals. She looked thin and tired, but her eyes, as she looked at me, were incredibly gentle.
"Yeah. A problem I couldn't solve just… figured itself out."
I fumbled with the helmet, getting the strap tangled. Seeing me struggle, her mom immediately parked the scooter and carefully adjusted it for me. She didn't scold me, just affectionately tapped my nose. "You're acting like a little kid. Hop on."
I got on the scooter, a strange warmth spreading from where her fingers had touched my nose.
Ever since I was ten, I had lived on my own. My mother was always busy, flying all over the world. She never picked me up from school, never allowed me to waste time with something as frivolous as affection. We hadn't touched in years. Our interactions were like those between a CEO and a subordinate: she gave orders, and I executed them. If I performed well, she transferred money. If I didn't, there were punishments.
The memory of those punishments sent an involuntary shiver down my spine, a fear so deep it felt etched into my bones.
It's okay, I told myself. You're Marie now, not Anna. You're not going to die.

5.
Marie's apartment was even smaller than I'd imagined. The living room was cluttered, with children's books and toys piled on the sofa. Right, Marie had mentioned she had a little sister, not even three years old.
"Marie, are you still mad at me?" Her mom placed a shoebox on the coffee table. "Those shoes you wanted? I scraped the money together and bought them for you. See? Are these the ones?"
I opened the box. Inside was a pair of knock-off Loro Piana loafers.
I knew they were fake because just last week, my mother had bought me the real ones, with strict instructions to wear them to school on the fifteenth of every month. I hated them, but I had numbly followed her command. Marie had noticed them that day, looked up the price, and had been in a foul mood for the rest of the day.
"Marie? Did I buy the wrong ones?"
Her mom’s gentle, hesitant question pulled me back. I looked into her hopeful eyes, and a warmth bloomed in my chest. "No, it's just… a classmate has the same pair. Could I maybe pick a different style?"
"Of course, sweetie. Here's my phone. Add what you want to the cart. I'm just going to run next door and pick up your sister."
She handed me her phone and left. So, she had to leave her younger daughter with a neighbor just so she could pick up her older one. A girl Marie's age could easily take the bus. She didn't have to do this every day. Was it to save the two-dollar bus fare?
I looked at her phone. It was an old model, three years out of date, with two cracks across the screen. The lock screen and wallpaper were both photos of Marie and her little sister. It was clear her mom was frugal with herself but lavished love on her children.
How nice, I thought. A mom this good is finally mine.

6.
Because I chose a cheaper pair of shoes and patiently read stories to my new little sister, Marie's mom made a huge platter of sweet and sour pork to reward me.
That night, for the first time, I ate what I wanted. I took as much as I wanted, not following the rigid, timed, and portioned meal plans my mother enforced. The perfectly balanced nutritional and body-sculpting meals of my adolescence were cold and clinical. Shrimp flown in from Argentina held none of a mother's warmth; it couldn't compare to the love cooked into the food in my bowl.
"Marie, what's wrong? Don't you feel well?"
"No, it's just… Mom, your cooking is so delicious, I don't want to finish it."
"Silly girl. If you like it, eat up. I'll make more for you tomorrow." She scraped the remaining pieces from the platter into my bowl, leaving none for herself.
My eyes stung. The broken pieces of myself, shattered for so long, slowly began to mend. So this is what it felt like to be loved by a mother… Like a spring breeze, a winter sun.
But just as I thought I could slowly pull myself out of hell in this warm and loving home, Marie's mom got into a terrible fight with her husband. Over me.

7.
Two in the morning.
The sound of a key turning in the lock echoed from the living room. Marie's mom slipped out of bed. I was a light sleeper and woke up just in time to hear a man's angry voice from outside our door.
"She's a teenage girl! Isn't five dollars enough for lunch? Why does she need more?"
"Marie likes meat, and a single hot dish is almost five dollars now. Sometimes she needs to buy school supplies, too. It's really not enough."
"If she's so expensive, maybe she should just drop out and go sell herself!"
Silence. My heart hammered against my ribs. Sell herself? He couldn't mean… I couldn't believe a father could say something so vile.
"Joe, three years ago, you asked me to quit my job to have a second child. You promised five hundred a month for the household. Two years ago, you cut it to three-fifty. This year, you're only giving me two hundred. Just give me the three-fifty, and I'll cover the increase in her lunch money."
CRASH. The sound of something shattering. Her husband had lost it. "All you three do is ask for money! You couldn't even give me a son! Why should I spend three-fifty a month on you? For that much, I could keep a girl on the side!"
Another suffocating silence. I thought that after being humiliated like that, she would surely demand a divorce.
But she said nothing. She just came back into the room, her shoulders slumped in defeat.
I quickly shut my eyes. She didn't notice I was awake as she tucked me in, then sat beside the bed, crying silently in the dark.
In that moment, I finally understood why Marie had so desperately wanted a rich mother.

8.
In the morning, Marie's mom apologized, telling me the neighbor couldn't watch my sister, so I'd have to take the bus.
"I transferred twenty-two dollars to your account. Two for the bus, twenty for lunch."
"I thought it was fifteen…" Last night, her husband had refused to give more.
"You're a growing girl. You can't skimp on food. An extra five dollars a day is nothing. I'll cover it." She gently stroked my face. "Marie, don't deny yourself at school. Buy whatever you want to eat."
The calluses on her fingertips felt rough against my skin, a little itchy, a little painful. I couldn't help but hug her. "Thank you, Mom."
She stiffened for a second, then gently patted my back. "You're acting so different lately," she murmured.
I snapped back to reality. I hadn't expected her to notice something was off so quickly. I practically fled the apartment, pulling out my phone once I was safely outside. A flood of messages from Marie popped up.

9.
[The etiquette tutors just praised me. Said I've improved a lot.]
[I got three 'excellents' in my public speaking class. You probably couldn't even get one, right?]
[My therapist is so cute, lol. She actually told me to 'get more sunshine.' My life is so perfect, even if it rained every day, I wouldn't get wet.]
[Guess what? The butler just told Mom I completed all my Tuesday objectives. She was so pleased, she bought me a couture dress on the spot.]
A couture dress? What was so exciting about that? My closet was full of them. Those expensive, elaborate clothes were less comfortable than my school uniform. Wearing them meant I wasn't Anna anymore; I was "Ms. Sterling's daughter," an accessory at some stuffy event where my expressions and emotions weren't my own.
"Marie, your mom couldn't drive you again today?"
A girl from the next class, Hailey, called out to me. Her sympathetic voice pulled me from my dark thoughts. I managed a smile. "Yeah, she has to look after my sister."
Hailey tilted her head and linked her arm through mine. "How come you're not mad? I thought you hated your sister."
Hated her sister? Marie's little sister was a soft, cuddly ball of fluff. When she looked at me with her big eyes and called me "sissy" in her tiny voice, my heart melted. Why would Marie hate her? Was it about money again?

10.
On the bus, I scrolled through more of Marie's messages.
[Mom is coming back next week. I'm going to tell her I want to transfer to a private school and then study abroad.]
[We were desk mates for three years, so I guess we have a connection. As long as you keep all my high school secrets, I can give you a nice payoff before I leave.]
At midnight, she'd sent a photo of the glittering city skyline from her new bedroom window: [Jealous? Marie, this is the penthouse you'll never reach, the life you'll never have.]
The last two messages were from five minutes ago:
[The Princess has transferred you 0-000.]
[Marie, I just saw you waiting for the bus. Did your mom ditch you for your sister again? How pathetic. Take a taxi. I'll wait for you in class.]
I accepted the money and turned off the screen. It seemed Marie was adapting to the role of "Anna Sterling" perfectly. She could stomach the bland nutritional meals, endure the stressful private tutoring sessions, and live in that empty, lifeless house. She was the perfect daughter my mother had always wanted—a robot who followed orders with precision. My mother must have been so pleased with her performance yesterday.
Wait…
A cold realization washed over me. I gripped my phone, my palm sweating with fear.
Marie had made three fatal mistakes.

11.
I made it to school just as the bell rang. As I put my bag down, Marie, who was scrolling through videos, glanced up. "You took the money. Why didn't you get a taxi?"
I frowned, snatched her—my—phone, and quickly closed the app. "Stop watching that. You'll get in trouble."
"What trouble? It's just a video." She glared at me. "Give it back."
"All your social media is monitored. The house is full of cameras. She knows everything you do." I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. "You've made three fatal mistakes. With her personality, we're both screwed."
"Mistakes? My performance last night was flawless. Even the butler didn't suspect a thing. Who are you trying to scare?"
"I'm not trying to scare you! Will you just listen to me—"
"No! Marie, give me back my phone right now, or I'll make you buy me a new one."
I was speechless. Suddenly, an arm reached over. Ryan Hunter, the class heartthrob Marie used to have a huge crush on, snatched the phone from my hand and presented it to her with a charming smile. "Anna, here's your phone."
"Oh." Marie took it without much enthusiasm and tossed it in her desk.
Ryan lingered, blushing slightly. "Anna, everyone says you're amazing at Go. Want to play a game after lunch?"
"No, I'm busy."
She rejected him flatly, opening her English book without even glancing at her former crush. Ryan retreated awkwardly. I didn't understand her reaction either. Just a few days ago, she was engineering "accidental" run-ins with him.
Noticing my stare, Marie lifted her chin smugly. "I'm going to be the CEO of Aura Corp one day. Ryan Hunter is beneath me. To me, he's just like you now—an insignificant grain of sand that will leave no trace on my life."

12.
I realized Marie truly saw herself as "Anna" now, and she was reveling in everything I had once despised. This was exactly what I wanted. As long as she could keep my mother fooled, we could both live the lives we desired.
I tried multiple times that day to warn her that Seraphina Sterling was not the benevolent mother portrayed in the news, but a cold, ruthless monster. Marie was convinced I was just jealous and trying to drive a wedge between them.
Finally, I gave up. I spent the entire afternoon writing down the one hundred and twenty-one house rules in a notebook and gave it to her. She barely glanced at it before tearing the pages to shreds.
"I don't believe you. This is just your pathetic attempt to get your life back."
"And even if it's true, I don't need your warnings. I'm confident I can win Mom's approval."
"Maybe she'll notice I'm a little different, but she'll just think I've realized my mistakes and changed for the better. From now on, I'm going to be the perfect, obedient daughter."
"I've read your text history. I don't get why you'd want a mother who's just… around. I'm grateful that my mother is out there conquering the world. If she were like some stay-at-home mom, chained to her house and kids, I'd be living like a beggar, unable to even afford bus fare."
She wasn't lying. Once, during a downpour, her mom forgot to transfer her bus fare, and she had to borrow two dollars from me.
Just then, a message popped up on my phone: [Sweetie, I'm cleaning the neighbor's house. Can you take the bus home? I made your favorite pork dumplings today. If you're hungry when you get back, you can boil some.]
Even though her mom had forgotten the bus fare again, a warmth spread through my chest. She had made dumplings just for me.

13.
After school, Marie saw me heading for the bus stop and blocked my path. "Did your mom ditch you for your sister again? How pathetic. Here's another hundred. Take a taxi." She transferred the money without waiting for a reply and strode off toward the town car.
I accepted the money, but I had no intention of taking a taxi. Marie's family was struggling. Her mom was cleaning houses to make ends meet. I would save the money and give it to her.
It was rush hour, and the bus was packed. People got on and off, but it remained crowded. I didn't notice the man in the baseball cap who stood next to me for several stops.
Until the driver slammed on the brakes. The passengers lurched forward, and the man fell against me, his hand landing on my chest. It didn't feel like an accident.
"Oh, it's you, little lady. Sorry, lost my balance."
He seemed to know Marie and greeted me casually. I pressed my lips together and turned my back to him. I thought that would be the end of it, but then his hand snaked around my waist. "Hey, let your uncle here just steady himself, okay?"
The hair on my arms stood on end. I grabbed his hand, my grip like steel. The taekwondo I had been practicing since I was a child finally came in handy.
And I finally understood why Marie never wanted to take the bus. She must have been harassed by this creep before. That's why she needed her mom to drive her every day. The moment her mom couldn't, she was in danger again. But why hadn't she told anyone? Why hadn't she gone to the police?
Three hours later, I had my answer.

14.
It was nine o'clock by the time Marie's mom picked me up from the police station.
"Marie, go home and get cleaned up. I'll go get your sister."
"Okay."
Her eyes were red and swollen, and a wave of guilt washed over me. I hadn't been hurt—in fact, I'd knocked out two of the pervert's teeth—but she kept blaming herself for not being there to pick me up. She had done her best, rushing to the station in her dirty apron, trying to stay calm and handle things rationally. But when the police said this was the man's third offense, her composure had shattered. The gentle, soft-spoken woman had transformed into a raging lioness. She had grabbed the man by the hair, dragged him to the floor, and was about to smash a chair over his head before the officers intervened.
During the ordeal, she had called her husband. His only response was: "You're a disgrace. Get your asses home now."
I wasn't surprised by his reaction anymore. What I didn't expect was that the moment I walked through the door, he would charge at me and slap me across the face.
"You little tramp! Always trying to seduce men! I told you to go back to the countryside and get married! Twenty thousand dollars, down the drain!"
"You knocked out two of his teeth! I'm not paying a dime! You can sell yourself to pay for it! I can't believe I'm stuck with three unlucky bitches like you!"
He screamed at me, then, not satisfied, he unbuckled his belt. He didn't care what had happened to his daughter. He only cared that she had embarrassed him.
"Joe, are you crazy? It's not her fault! That pervert was the one who assaulted our daughter!"
At the critical moment, Marie's mom threw herself in front of me. Joe just swung the belt, catching her across the face. "Useless hen! It's all your fault for letting her go to high school! What's the point of educating a girl? She just ends up acting like a whore!"
My little sister started wailing. Marie's mom stood there, trembling, all the fight she'd shown at the station gone. "Joe, that's enough!" she finally managed to choke out.
Her weak protest only fueled his rage. "What, Linda, you want a divorce? You willing to leave your precious little chicks? Don't forget, you don't have a penny to your name. The court will never give you the kids."
He raised the belt again, and she instinctively flinched, burying her head, silently enduring the abuse in front of her children rather than uttering the word "divorce."

15.
My taekwondo came in handy for the second time that day.
I kicked Joe until he passed out. As I was about to deliver a more permanent blow, Marie's mom wrapped her arms around me, holding me tight. "Marie, no! You'll go to jail! Stop, please!"
My little sister clung to my pant leg, sobbing, "Sissy, hug."
I didn't want them to keep crying. I took a deep breath and stopped.
Once the house was quiet and my sister was calm, her mom started to move toward Joe. I grabbed her arm. "Mom, can you please divorce him?"
"Marie, you just focus on your studies. Don't worry about grown-up problems." She wiped her tears and wouldn't meet my eyes.
In that moment, I felt a profound disappointment. But then, I understood the real problem.

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