On the first day after my wealthy birth family found me, my biological parents gave me a warning.
“Now that you’re back, don’t go thinking you can compete with Nian for anything.”
I surveyed the family’s opening show of hostility, smiled, and pulled out an employment contract.
“I think you two have misunderstood something: a parent-child relationship is a legal fact.”
“But asking me to play the sweet, obedient daughter while serving as your adopted daughter’s stepping stone would qualify as premium emotional labor.”
“It’ll cost extra.”