No More Hearts in the Trash

Summary

The day the true Ashworth heiress returned, my life ended. I became a ghost on the streets, fighting stray dogs for scraps from dumpsters.

With a ruined face and missing arm, no one challenged me for meals. "Ugh, she's not even wearing pants!" a passerby sneered. Dignity was a luxury I couldn't afford.

I devoured a discarded cake, shoving it into my mouth with what remained of my fingers. Then I noticed him—staring in horrified disbelief.

"Must be losing my mind," he muttered, "mistaking a homeless woman for Clara Ashworth."