The General's Replacement Doctor Wife

"Witch! Look at her weird eyes!"

The shouts rang across the rain-swept yard of St. Therese Orphanage. Olivia quickened her steps and pretended not to hear a word.

Her eyes had always made her different. One was a vivid blue, the other a striking green. The other children called them cursed.

Just make it to the building, she repeated to herself.

But she wasn't fast enough.

A hard shove sent her face-first into a dirty puddle. Hands grabbed her head and dunked her face deeper into the muddy water. They held her under until her lungs burned. Just when she thought she would die, a voice screamed.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

The hands holding her disappeared instantly. She heard feet scrambling away, leaving her alone in the mud.

"She fell, Sister Anne! We were just trying to help her up!"

"Is this true, Olivia?"

Olivia lifted her face, her fingers digging into the mud. What was the point of telling the truth? Sister Anne never believed her anyway.

"Yes, Sister," she whispered. "I fell."

"Then what are you waiting for? Get up! The Hilton family is visiting us today! They're our most generous benefactors, and I expect you to be presentable when they arrive."

Sister Anne's footsteps faded away. Olivia heard the other children laughing before they followed.

She slowly pushed herself off the ground. Everything hurt, but she forced herself to walk to her room.

In the small room she shared with four other children, she peeled off her mud-soaked dress.

She pulled on her only other dress, a plain pink one with a white patch on the elbow. It wasn't nice enough for meeting important visitors, but it was all she had.

When the brass bell rang, Olivia made her way to the bright dining hall, where everyone was waiting.

Mrs. Hilton froze the moment her eyes landed on her.

"Honey, she looks like Caroline," she told her husband.

Sister Anne cleared her throat.

"Olivia is... a difficult child. Troublesome. Surely you'd prefer—"

"We've made our decision." Mr. Hilton's deep voice left no room for argument. "We'll take her. Please prepare the paperwork right away. She's coming with us today."

Olivia stood frozen. This couldn't be real. For the first time in forever, someone was looking straight into her strange eyes without flinching.

"Would you like to come home with us?" Mrs. Hilton asked gently.

Olivia could only nod.

Behind her, she could almost hear Sister Anne grinding her teeth. But none of it mattered anymore. Someone had chosen her. Someone had looked at her and wanted her anyway.

The Hilton house was bigger than anything Olivia had ever seen.

"Let me show you your new room," Mrs. Hilton said, taking her hand.

The room was spacious, with floor-to-ceiling windows draped in flowing pink curtains, a queen-sized bed piled high with pillows, and a delicate canopy that made it look fit for a princess.

Looking around, Olivia's eyes landed on the portrait hanging on the wall. The girl appeared to be about her age and looked just like her. If it weren't for her eyes, Olivia would have thought it was a portrait of herself.

"T-That's C-Caroline," Mrs. Hilton whispered. "My daughter. We lost her a year ago."

Olivia couldn't look away from the face that resembled hers. She finally understood the Hiltons' instant decision to adopt her.

She wasn't chosen because they wanted her.

She was chosen because she looked like their dead daughter.

She was just a replacement.

—

"Clayton will be coming tonight."

Olivia frowned. Her eyes shifted from her plate to Mr. Hilton, who hadn't even glanced at her.

"He is Caroline's future husband. But with her gone, you'll be taking her place. You'll marry him once you come of age."

Olivia dropped her spoon, but her adoptive parents didn't seem to notice. She pushed her food around her plate, no longer hungry.

"May I be excused?"

Her adoptive mother lifted a hand, signaling that she could leave without even looking at her.

Olivia slowly made her way out of the dining room. Once she was out of sight, she dashed toward her room but stopped in the hallway when a deep voice called out.

"Caroline!"

She looked up and saw a man several years older than her. She could have sworn he was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on.

"I thought I'd never see you again!"

The longing in his voice was unmistakable as he pulled her into his arms. His chest was warm against her cheek, and she could hear his heart beating fast.

But then he looked at her face for the first time, shattering the beautiful moment instantly.

His dark eyes met hers, and his arms dropped away as though she'd burned him. For a heartbeat, he stared into her mismatched eyes—one blue, one green—and the hatred in his expression was unlike anything she'd ever seen. Not even the children who had bullied her relentlessly at the orphanage had looked at her with such contempt.

"I-I'm sorry," she whispered, lowering her gaze to the floor. She didn't even know what she was apologizing for.

The hands that had held her so tenderly only moments ago, believing she was Caroline, were now balled into fists at his sides.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Olivia," she answered softly. "The Hiltons adopted me from St. Therese Orphanage."

A harsh laugh escaped him.

"Caroline's been gone barely a year, and they've already found someone to take her place?"

"Look at me," he commanded.

When she didn't, his hand caught her chin, forcing her face up. His touch wasn't gentle anymore.

"Those eyes..." he muttered. "Caroline had the most beautiful brown eyes I'd ever seen. But you... what are you? Some kind of freak? You're crazy if you think you could ever replace her."

He straightened his jacket and walked past her as though she were invisible.

Olivia waited until his footsteps faded before running to her room—no, Caroline's room.

Everything in it still belonged to her. The room, the clothes, the shoes, and even Clayton, Olivia's future husband.

Four years later.

Time had worked its strange magic. Olivia's eyes, which had once made her a target of cruel bullying at the orphanage and caused Clayton Bradford to call her a freak, had become her most striking feature.

At seventeen, Olivia walked the halls of Cordova Academy with a grace that turned heads. Boys stumbled over their words when she passed by in the hallways. In photography class, she became the most requested model. The photography teacher, Ms. Shanon, called her "a work of art."

Girls who once would have mocked her features back in freshman year now visited expensive boutiques, searching for colored contact lenses to mimic her look. But none could replicate the natural beauty she possessed.

When prom season arrived, her locker overflowed with invitations. The football captain, a famous politician's son, and even the hot guy with a fan club all hoped to escort the girl with the bewitching eyes. The same eyes that