I was in the middle of Advanced Physics, half-listening to Dr. Chen explain momentum and half-grinding my Studying skill, when my phone vibrated in my pocket.
I ignored it. Phones were banned during class.
It vibrated again. And again.
Dr. Chen was writing equations on the board, her back turned. I carefully pulled out my phone under my desk.
Seven missed calls from an unknown number.
Then a text from the same number: *"This is Margaret Simmons, EA to Richard Whitmore. Mr. Whitmore needs to speak with you immediately. It's regarding your mother. Please call back ASAP."*
My blood ran cold. My mother?
My hand shot up. "Dr. Chen, I need to use the bathroom. It's urgent."
She glanced at me, saw something in my expression, and nodded. "Go ahead."
I grabbed my backpack and practically ran to the hallway. The moment I was alone, I called the number back.
"Ethan Carter?" A professional woman's voice.
"Yes. Your text said something about my mother—"
"Your mother is fine. I apologize for the alarm, but Mr. Whitmore insisted it was the only way to get you to call back immediately." Her tone was crisp, unapologetic. "Mr. Whitmore needs to see you. Now. There's a car waiting at your school's east entrance."
"I'm in the middle of class—"
"This concerns your family, Mr. Carter. Your *entire* family. I strongly suggest you come."
She hung up.
I stood there, phone in hand, my mind racing. Richard Whitmore—Marcus's father, billionaire CEO—wanted to see me? Why?
The system had been quiet all morning. No notifications. No alerts. Whatever this was, the system either didn't know or didn't care.
But my gut told me this was important.
I texted Daniel: *Emergency. Cover for me if anyone asks.*
Then I walked to the east entrance.
---
A black Mercedes S-Class idled by the curb. The driver—a broad-shouldered man in a suit—opened the rear door without a word.
I hesitated. Every instinct screamed this was a bad idea. But if it was really about my mom...
I got in.
The leather seats probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. The car smelled like expensive cologne and power.
We drove in silence through downtown, past the skyscrapers, until we pulled up to Whitmore Industries—a gleaming glass tower that dominated the skyline.
The driver led me through a private entrance, past security who didn't even check my ID, straight to an elevator that required a key card. We rode up in silence. My reflection stared back at me from the polished steel doors—a skinny scholarship kid in a wrinkled uniform, completely out of place.
The elevator opened directly into a massive office.
Richard Whitmore stood by floor-to-ceiling windows, his back to me, hands clasped behind him. He was tall—maybe six-two—with silver hair and the kind of presence that made you stand up straighter without realizing it.
"Mr. Carter," he said without turning around. "Thank you for coming."
"Did I have a choice?"
He turned to face me, and I got my first real look at Richard Whitmore up close.
And my breath caught.
I'd seen him before in news articles, on TV, in photos around Silverbrook. But I'd never paid attention to his *face*.
The sharp jawline. The straight nose. The deep-set brown eyes. The way his left eyebrow sat slightly higher than the right.
I'd seen that face in the mirror every morning of my life.
"Please, sit." Richard gestured to a chair across from his desk.
I sat, my heart hammering.
He remained standing, studying me with an intensity that made me want to squirm. But I held his gaze.
"Six months ago," Richard began, his voice controlled, "I attended a charity gala. Marcus accompanied me. During the event, he cut his hand on broken glass—nothing serious, but it required stitches. At the hospital, they ran a routine blood test."
He paused, his jaw tightening.
"The results showed Marcus has Type A blood. Both Catherine and I are Type AB. That's... genetically impossible."
My mouth went dry.
"I didn't confront my wife immediately. I hired private investigators first. DNA tests. Hospital records. Background checks." Richard's expression darkened. "What I discovered destroyed everything I thought I knew about my family."
He pulled a folder from his desk and placed it in front of me.
I opened it with trembling hands.
DNA test results. Marcus Whitmore and Richard Whitmore. *Probability of Paternity: 0.00%*
"Marcus is not my biological son," Richard said flatly. "He never was."
I stared at the document, unable to process it.
"The investigators dug deeper. They discovered that seventeen years ago, my wife Catherine was having an affair. When she got pregnant, she panicked. She knew I'd find out the child wasn't mine eventually." He took a breath. "So she made a choice."
He placed another document in front of me.
Hospital records from Silverbrook Memorial. August 3rd, 2007. Two baby boys born within two hours of each other.
*Baby Boy #1: Mother - Elena Carter*
*Baby Boy #2: Mother - Catherine Anderson-Whitmore*
"There was a scheduling error that night," Richard continued. "Only one nurse on duty in the maternity ward. Two boys born close together, both with rare blood types. Both mothers alone—your mother because she had no family, my wife because I was away on business."
He pulled out a third document. A sworn affidavit from a former hospital employee named Janet Pierce.
I read it, the words blurring together:
*"...Mrs. Whitmore offered me $50,000 to switch the identification bracelets... I was drowning in student debt... I thought no one would ever know... The Carter baby was healthy, strong... Mrs. Whitmore's baby was smaller, weaker... She said she wanted to make sure she had a strong heir..."*
The paper slipped from my fingers.
"Catherine *paid* someone to switch us?" I whispered.
"Yes." Richard's voice was ice. "She deliberately took my biological son—you—and replaced him with her lover's child. She let you grow up in poverty while Marcus lived the life that should have been yours. She's been lying to me for seventeen years."
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
"Two weeks ago, I confronted her with the evidence. She broke down. Confessed everything." Richard's hands clenched into fists. "The affair. The bribe. The switch. She begged me not to tell Marcus, not to tell you. She said too much time had passed, that revealing the truth would only cause pain."
"What did you say?"
"I told her I needed time to think. To decide what to do." He looked at me directly. "And then three days ago, you started answering every question in class. You tried out for basketball. You stopped being invisible."
My stomach dropped. "You've been watching me?"
"I've had someone monitoring you since I discovered the truth. I needed to understand who you are before I made any decisions." Richard's expression softened slightly. "And what I've seen these past few days... Ethan, you're nothing like Marcus. You're disciplined. Determined. You don't quit. Even when you're the worst player at tryouts, you keep pushing."
"How do you know about tryouts?"
"I know everything that happens at Silverbrook Academy. I'm the largest donor." He pulled out one more document—a DNA test requisition form with my name on it. "This morning, I authorized a proper DNA test. Hair samples from your hairbrush at home, samples from me. The results came back an hour ago."
He handed me the paper.
*PATERNITY TEST RESULTS*
*Alleged Father: Richard James Whitmore*
*Child: Ethan Michael Carter*
*Probability of Paternity: 99.99%*
The world tilted.
"You're my son," Richard said quietly. "You've always been my son. And I've failed you for seventeen years."
I couldn't speak. Couldn't process this. It was too much.
"I understand this is overwhelming," Richard continued. "But I need you to understand something: Catherine is facing criminal charges for conspiracy and fraud. The hospital employee who accepted the bribe has already pleaded guilty in exchange for testimony. This will become public very soon."
"What about Marcus?" I managed to ask.
Richard's expression darkened. "Marcus is the innocent victim of his mother's crime. He had no knowledge of the switch. Legally, he has no claim to the Whitmore name or inheritance—he's the biological son of Catherine's former lover, James Anderson."
"Does he know?"
"Not yet. I'm telling him tonight." Richard moved to the window, staring out at the city. "This will destroy him. Everything he's believed about himself, everything he's taken pride in—his name, his legacy, his future—it's all built on a lie."
A bitter part of me thought: *Good. Let him feel what it's like to have everything taken away.*
But another part—a smaller, quieter part—felt... pity?
"What happens now?" I asked.
Richard turned back to me. "That depends on you. Legally, you are my heir. The Whitmore name, the company, the fortune—it should all be yours. But I won't force this on you. If you want to walk away, continue your life as Ethan Carter, I'll respect that decision."
"And if I don't walk away?"
"Then we tell the world the truth. We bring you home. You become Ethan Whitmore, and Marcus becomes... whatever he chooses to become." Richard's voice softened. "But I won't lie to you, Ethan. This won't be easy. The media will be vicious. Marcus will hate you. Catherine will fight this with everything she has. Your entire life will change overnight."
I stood up, my legs shaky. "I need time to think."
"Of course. Take all the time you need." Richard pulled out a business card. "My personal number. Call me when you're ready to talk. And Ethan?"
I turned at the door.
"For what it's worth... I'm sorry. Sorry I wasn't there. Sorry you grew up the way you did. Sorry I didn't find you sooner." His voice cracked slightly. "I would have wanted to know you. I would have been proud to call you my son."
I left without responding, my mind spinning.
The driver took me back to school in silence. I walked through the hallways in a daze, barely registering the end-of-day bell, the crowds of students, Daniel calling my name.
I found myself in the bathroom—the same bathroom where Marcus had shoved my head in the toilet just days ago.
I stared at my reflection.
Ethan Carter. Ethan Whitmore.
The poor kid. The rich heir.
Who was I really?
And then, finally, the system spoke:
---
**[MAJOR LIFE EVENT DETECTED]**
**Your true identity has been revealed.**
**You are Ethan Whitmore, biological son of Richard Whitmore.**
**Marcus Whitmore is not related to you by blood.**
**You have been living the wrong life for 17 years.**
**QUEST UPDATED: RECLAIM YOUR IDENTITY**
**Objective 1: Decide your path (0/1)**
- Option A: Reveal the truth and reclaim your birthright
- Option B: Continue as Ethan Carter and grow in secret
- Option C: Delay decision and gather more power first
**Warning: Each choice will dramatically alter your life trajectory.**
**Reward: Depends on choice made**
---
I stared at the blue screen, at the three options hovering before me.
Reveal the truth now, when I was still weak? When Marcus could crush me socially, even if I had the legal high ground?
Or wait. Grind. Get stronger. Build power until I was untouchable, and *then* reclaim what was mine?
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number:
*"Marcus knows. Catherine told him everything an hour ago. He's looking for you. Be careful. - R. Whitmore"*
Too late.
The choice had been made for me.
---
**[END CHAPTER 5]**
**[CURRENT STATUS]**
**Strength:** Level 1 (24/100 Shards)
**Stamina:** Level 1 (0/100 Shards)
**Intelligence:** Level 1 (63/100 Shards)
**Charm:** Level 1 (22/100 Shards)