Chapter 2

After that, I was brought back to the Langdon residence, where I discovered there was another girl.

Winona was the daughter of Dad's war buddy. Dad had adopted her after her father died during a mission.

From the start, she stared at me with a gaze full of hostility and wariness, as if I were an intruder in her life. Eyes bloodshot, she pointed an accusing finger at me and screamed, "You're the person who stole Daddy from me! You're a murderer!"

I remember being completely stunned at her words, unable to form a response.

Mom hurriedly hugged her from behind, whispering gentle comforts.

After that, Mom began blaming me for everything.

Back in the present, Peter Lintell approached Mom and asked, "So what's up with the body?"

Mr. Lintell was Dad's best friend.

Mom massaged the bridge of her nose. "The victim is female, approximately 20 years old. Preliminary findings indicate the cause of death was a stab wound to the throat by a sharp object. She was also tortured severely before death."

Lighting a cigarette, Mr. Lintell took a deep drag. In a voice tinged with melancholy, he said, "We need to solve this before it ferments and causes a public stir."

Then, he turned to Mom. "It isn't safe with the killer loose. You'd better tell Winona and Samantha to stay home at night."

Mom waved a dismissive hand. "I'm not worried about Winnie; she's very obedient."

Then, her face twisted with disdain. "As for Samantha, she's not my problem."

Mr. Lintell sighed. After a moment's hesitation, he said, "Samantha is still your biological daughter. Try to be nicer to her."

Mom shook her head. "Peter, you don't know everything. She caused her father's death. If she had been good and obedient after returning to the family, it might have been different. But ever since she arrived, we've never had peace. She's either jealous of Winnie or causing trouble."

There was no end to her resentment when it was about me.

"Today is Winnie's birthday. She told me she's been calling Samantha for days, but Samantha refuses to pick up or reply to any messages.

"I didn't raise her myself. Is it any surprise she turned out worthless? She could die out there and no one would even know."

I floated nearby, watching her complain about me. I didn't feel anything. For some reason, after becoming a spirit, all those complicated emotions had left me.

…

Under the harsh white lights of the autopsy room, Mom stood clad in a white uniform, latex gloves snug on her hands. Her brow was furrowed as she stared at my corpse on the autopsy table.

A look of deep pity and heartache filled her eyes.

As far as I could remember, I had never seen her look at me that way.

Her gaze traveled slowly across my body before finally landing on my waist, where a ghastly scar marred the skin. I got it during a conflict with Winona not long after I returned to the family.

That day, Mom finished cooking and gently stroked Winona's head, telling her to be good, finish her breakfast, and be careful on the way to school.

Winona played the part of an obedient girl while Mom watched. However, the moment Mom turned around, Winona rolled her eyes in disdain, scrubbing at the spot Mom had touched.

"Ugh, what bad luck," she muttered.

Fury roared through me, and I charged forward and grabbed Winona's hair. In the ensuing scuffle, a bowl shattered. Winona swiftly snatched up a shard and slashed it at my waist in one vicious move.

I could only stare in shock at the bright red blood gushing from the wound, the agony stealing the breath from my lungs.