I was growing up as the much-hated "fake heiress" in a wealthy family, and my life took a devastating turn after my death.

My childhood friend who lived next door leaked my nudes online, branding me as manipulative and promiscuous.

This ignited public outrage, with strangers celebrating my demise at my family's home. My parents, eager to sever any connection with me, destroyed our mansion that very night, even going so far as to feed my ashes to the dog. Everyone said I deserved it.

On the day the true heiress married my childhood friend in a grand, live-streamed wedding, I gave them a unique wedding present from beyond the grave.

The wedding of Autumn Westwood and Franklin Cordon was the event of the year. The place was packed with guests, all dressed to the nines.

Down in the front row, my parents were wiping away tears while quietly sobbing, “Our little Autumn’s finally getting married. She’s our everything.”

Up above, my soul floated in the air, watching, feeling an ache deep inside. Once, they used to cry over me like that, too.

Just then, someone shouted from the crowd, “What a perfect match! Master Franklin and Miss Autumn sure are made for each other!”

“Yeah," someone else chimed in. "Not like that fake, Ginger Westwood. She stole the real daughter’s life for over twenty years. Even six feet under, she’s nothing but bad luck.”

Autumn seemed to hear my name as well. Her hand paused for a second, and then she smiled—a small, mocking curve of her lips.

I laughed bitterly to myself. Of course, she would. I had lived the life that was supposed to be hers for over two decades. She had every reason to sneer at me.

However, the next second, Autumn turned toward the live-stream camera, her voice carrying through the hall.

"Speaking of Ginger," she said sweetly, "I should thank her."

The guests fell silent.

"She even sent us a wedding gift."

"A gift?!" I froze mid-air. From me? I had no idea what she was talking about.

Before I could even piece together a thought, the crowd exploded in outrage.

"She’s dead, and she’s still causing trouble? What a schemer!"

"She was awful when she was alive. Now, she’s haunting the wedding too!"

"That evil girl—it’s probably some kind of curse!"

My mother’s face turned an ugly shade of gray. She leapt up from her seat. “She always tried to steal from Autumn!” she shrieked. “There’s no way she sent anything good! Throw it out! Throw it away! Don’t let it ruin Autumn’s big day!”

Franklin frowned, looking annoyed. He waved his hand dismissively. “Forget it. Don’t bother opening it. It’s just trash. Let’s move on.”

Nevertheless, Autumn raised a hand to stop him, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Really?" she said coolly. "I'm curious. I want to see what she left us."

My parents tried to stop her, but she was already opening the box.

Inside was a thick, worn journal.

I recognized it instantly. It was mine.

But… how? My parents had burned all my things. How had it survived?

Before I could even make sense of it, Autumn flipped it open and began to read aloud.

"February 1, 2024. The real daughter of the Westwood family, Autumn, came home today. She was skinny, dark, and scared of everything. Mom and Dad said she'd suffered a lot out there, and that I should always give in to her, no matter what."

As her voice rang out, a giant screen behind the altar flickered to life. A grainy photo appeared. It was Autumn wearing a faded flannel shirt and cheap jeans, standing stiffly in the corner.

I had taken that photo secretly that very day. Her hair had been dry and brittle, her eyes hollow. Nothing like the polished, luminous woman she was today.

The moment Franklin saw it, he ripped off his tie in anger. "Turn that off! Who let that play? The past is the past! Autumn’s not like that anymore!"

"Exactly!" someone from the crowd shouted.

"Ginger was always jealous! She even kept ugly photos like this just to humiliate her!"

"She must have hated Autumn from the very first day they met!"

"All those things Ginger did to sabotage Autumn later—it was all planned from the start!"

My parents were furious now, practically shaking with rage.

"If we had known how vicious she was," my father yelled, "we would have gotten rid of her that very day!"

Hearing their accusations, I felt a swirl of emotions. Just like that with a single photo, everyone turned on me.

Autumn paused for a moment, then continued reading from my diary.

"But she didn’t seem to hate me," she read. "She wiped her sweaty palms and nervously reached out her hand to me. But I rejected her."

Autumn’s voice wavered a little. "She froze, then asked me in a tiny voice if I didn’t like her.

"I remembered that moment. I had opened my mouth to speak, to explain, but Mom and Dad's angry voices had shattered the moment.

"Mom: Autumn just got home today. Can't you stop acting like some spoiled little princess?

"Dad: Do you even know what Autumn’s been through these past twenty years? If it wasn't for the hospital screwing things up, you'd be the one who suffered!

"I stood there, stunned. Just the night before, they had held me, reassured me, sworn that even with Autumn back, their love for me wouldn't change. Yet, because I hesitated to shake her hand, their true feelings spilled out, raw and cutting.

"But…

"All I could think about at the time was Autumn's embarrassment. I had seen the rough calluses on her hands, and I worried that she’d feel ashamed."

Autumn’s voice faltered for a moment as she read, her eyes flashing with something unsteady.

She bit her lower lip unconsciously.

My mother suddenly seemed to realize how this sounded. She jerked her head up and blurted out, "I—well, maybe I did say those things, but later she crossed so many lines, I had no choice!

"If she was really looking out for Autumn, then why didn’t she explain? She's just making excuses for herself!"

Dad pulled her close and whispered, "It’s over, Carol. She’s dead. She paid for what she did."

Franklin frowned and cut in sharply. "She obviously just couldn't handle Autumn coming home. She was scared Autumn would take her place," he said.

Autumn smiled faintly, but didn’t say a word. Instead, she flipped to the next page of the journal.

March 15, 2024.

The screen behind her flashed to life again, showing a photo of Franklin crouching on the ground, tying my shoelaces.

Autumn began reading again, "Franklin came over today. The first thing he said was... he wanted to break off our engagement.

"He said now that the real daughter of the Westwoods had returned, there was no way he would marry a fake. But hadn’t he always said he loved me? That our marriage wasn’t about the families but about us?

"We had known each other for over twenty years. Was all of that... nothing?

"I ran out to find him. I had to know why. And I overheard him on the phone, laughing with his friends.

"'Ginger Westwood? She’s a fake who actually thought she was somebody. She’s just for fun. If you want a marriage alliance, you marry the real deal.'

"Then, he laughed harder. 'Yeah, it’s a shame though. I wasted five years on her, treated her like a princess, and she wouldn't even let me touch her. She really thought she was some untouchable goddess. But Autumn? She looks like she’ll be a lot easier to get.'"

As Autumn finished reading, the wedding hall was completely silent, the weight of her words pressing down on everyone present.

That was the moment the truth crashed down on me. Every sweet word, every gesture of devotion from Franklin, had been a lie. The depth of his betrayal left me reeling, my heart shattered into a million pieces.

I had thought about telling Mom and Dad. However, every time I even mentioned Franklin’s name, they would immediately accuse me of being jealous of Autumn. They never gave me a chance to explain and defend myself.

But what about Autumn? How could I stand by and let her marry someone like that? Would she even believe me?

At this point, Autumn glanced sideways at Franklin.

He swallowed hard, then barked out, "She’s just jealous you were marrying me! She made all this crap up!"

Mr. and Mrs. Cordon shot up from their seats, their faces contorted with fury.

"If our son really said those things," Mrs. Cordon shrieked, "then how do you explain her drugging Franklin to get into his bed?!"

A wave of murmuring swept through the guests.

"Yeah, remember?" someone whispered. "At Autumn’s birthday party, Ginger slipped something into Franklin’s drink. The next morning, she demanded he marry her. She’ll never live that down."

Autumn gave a small nod.

"Yeah," she said softly, her voice sharp as a knife. "Why did she have to do something like that?"

Immediately after that, she flipped to the next page.

May 20, 2024.

Today is my birthday... and Autumn's too. But Mom and Dad seemed to have forgotten about me as they only bought her a cake.

Still, I wasn't even mad. It’s just cake, and I don’t even like sweets anyway.

Autumn seemed to notice me hiding in the corner. She brought me a slice and said, "Happy birthday, sis."

I acted like I didn’t care, pushing the cake away. But inside, my heart was pounding like crazy. I wanted so badly to tell her happy birthday too.

Even when I was cold, she just smiled and said it was okay. She really did seem like an angel. No wonder everyone loved her.

Later that night, I saw Franklin put something into her drink. I didn’t have time to think. Just as Autumn was about to sip it, I lunged forward, grabbed the glass, and gulped it down myself. I barely had time to breathe when Mom came rushing over and slapped me across the face.

I hit the ground hard, and all she cared about was checking if Autumn was okay.

Me? Why didn’t you ask why I did it, Mom?

In the end, she didn’t believe me. She had me dragged back to my room and locked me inside. I don’t know how long I was out of it—dizzy, unable to even stand straight.

Through the haze, I saw Franklin. He shoved me onto the bed, his face twisted with rage.

"I was this close to getting Autumn, and you ruined it!" he snarled. "If you’re so desperate, fine. I’ll just take you instead!"

I wanted to fight back. I really did. But then I thought… If I let him do it, maybe he'd have to marry me. Maybe Autumn would be safe.

So, I stopped struggling.

Later, they woke me up by throwing cold water in my face.

Franklin looked down at me in disgust. "You drugged me, didn’t you? You tricked me into thinking you were Autumn! You ruined everything. Forget it. Even if you pulled this off, my heart’s only for Autumn."

Mom and Dad wouldn’t hear a word from me. They screamed at me, "Filthy thing! Trying to keep Autumn from marrying into the Cordons with your dirty tricks! Get out. You are no longer a Westwood!"

I thought losing everything was the worst. It turned out that this hurt more.

As Autumn finished reading, someone in the crowd couldn’t hold it in anymore, "So... Franklin was the one who drugged the drink? Gingy tried to save Autumn?!"

"Was Gingy framed all along?!"

Franklin waved his hands frantically. "That's nonsense! She's just making stuff up!"

I saw Mom and Dad freeze where they stood, their lips trembling. "Autumn... Autumn was meant to marry Franklin from the start. So what?"

"And that ungrateful brat Gingy—she just stayed because she wanted money!"

Autumn let out a small, cold laugh. "For money?" she echoed.

Then she flipped to another page.

I didn’t even have time to be hurt. I got down on my knees, begging them not to send me back to where 80-year-old Grandpa was waiting. He couldn’t even afford a proper dress for Autumn. What could he possibly give me?

I didn’t want to go back.

Hearing this, Mom looked relieved, as if her assumptions were confirmed. Dad still wore a grim face. "Gingy only cared about money. All our kindness was wasted on her."

The online chat was exploding.

"Even if he’s poor, he’s still your real grandpa! Calling her an ungrateful brat fits!"

"Did she ever think that life was supposed to be hers?"

Autumn’s fingers tightened around the diary. "Why was she so desperate for money? Let's keep reading."

August 9, 2024.

I couldn’t hold on any longer. I had to ask Mom and Dad for $2,000. Mom scoffed and asked where all my allowance had gone.

I told them the truth: I had given it to Grandpa.

Mom just laughed. "Yeah, right. You didn’t even want to go back to him. Now, you’re telling me you sent him money? My sweet Autumn, on the other hand, never forgot him. She’s been helping him all along. You’re not trying to steal even that credit, are you?"

In that moment, I realized that no matter what I said, they’d never believe me.

When did it all turn so ugly? I didn’t know.

But… I didn’t have much time left anyway. If it weren’t for the cancer pain getting worse every day, I wouldn’t have dared to ask them for anything.

I prayed Grandpa would never find out about me. Autumn had said he was a wonderful person.

If he knew, he might have tried to save me. But I didn’t want that. He was already old and tired. He was better off not knowing.

Forget it. I won’t ask again.

At this point, someone finally exclaimed, "Wait, are you saying... Gingy had cancer?! And she didn’t want to burden her grandfather?"

The live chat was flooded with messages. Some people were finally speaking up for me.

Mom clutched her chest and stood up, swaying. "She... she did say she wasn’t feeling well, but..."

Mrs. Cordon finally lost her patience. "Enough! Today is Franklin and Autumn’s wedding! Why talk about some dead girl?!"

Franklin tried to grab Autumn’s hand, trying to stop her from reading more, but she pulled away, her eyes red as she stared at Mom.

"Don’t you want to know what else she went through? Why she became who she was?"

Mom tried to hold back her sobs as she sank back into her seat, trembling. "Even if I know... so what... she’s still..."

Autumn took a deep breath and said coldly, "Then, let’s keep going. Let’s see what really happened to Gingy."