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.

Winona immediately called Mom and tearfully reported what had happened. The instant she hung up, the tears stopped. Then, she sat down on the couch and began playing on her phone, as if nothing had happened.

Meanwhile, I continued to bleed on the floor, my vision blurring until I eventually lost consciousness.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. The first thing that greeted me was a resounding slap from Mom.

"How could you be so wicked? she screamed. "Just because Winnie ate an extra egg, you hurt her like that?"

Dumbfounded, I turned to look at Winona, only then noticing the bandages wrapped around her arm.

I was brought out of my memories when I saw Mom lean over to inspect the scar more closely, a frown on her face.

A few seconds later, she calmly said to her assistant, "This is an old scar, not an injury left by the killer."

At that moment, her phone rang—the ringtone specifically set for Winona.

Mom hurriedly took off her gloves and walked into the corridor to answer. Her voice was warm and gentle as a summer breeze. "Hi, sweetheart. What's up?"

Winona's voice came over the line sweetly. "Mom, let's have dinner together."

"Tonight?" Mom hesitated briefly. "Alright, I'll definitely be there."

"You're the best, Mom! I wonder if Sammy can make it. I keep trying to bring her into the family even though I know she doesn't like me. After all, I hogged you and Dad to myself for so many years. Still, I hope she'll come."

The mention of Dad darkened Mom's expression instantly. "Winnie, don't bother with her. She'll never be grateful. If it weren't for her, your dad would still be alive. She doesn't deserve to be my daughter. You, on the other hand, will forever be my baby."

With a tinkling laugh, Winona said, "Mom, Mr. Lintell called me just now to tell me to be more careful. You should remind Sammy to watch out too."

Brow furrowing, Mom said, "You just focus on your own safety. Don't worry about her."

…

The police force gathered in the conference room to listen to Mom's autopsy report. When she finished, a dead silence fell. Sheer disbelief and pain were written across their faces—what I had experienced was far crueler than they had imagined.

Both of my eyeballs had been removed, leaving two gaping holes. Only a thin layer of flesh still connected my head to my neck, and hardly an inch of skin on my body was left unmarred. Broken shards of bone were mixed with blood and flesh, forming a sticky, clotted paste.

Even imagining what I had gone through was enough to make them shiver.

My murder case sent shockwaves through society, and the public was in an uproar.

The higher-ups placed immense pressure on the police to solve the murder as soon as possible.

The increased burden weighed heavily, casting an unprecedented seriousness over everyone. A dark cloud seemed to hang over the department.

After the report, Mr. Lintell lit a cigarette and turned to Mom with a frown. In a low voice, he asked, "I tried calling Sammy earlier, but she didn't pick up. She hasn't answered my messages either. Is she not home?"

Mom scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. "She has legs, and it's not as if I can keep her on a leash. She's probably just pretending to be missing again. It's not her first time."

Indeed, this wasn't the first time I had gone missing.

The last time I went missing was a few years ago.

Back then, Winona had trapped me in an abandoned sports storeroom at school. It was in a remote area, so hardly anyone went there.

I screamed for help as loudly as I could, but all that answered was the echo of my own voice and the heavy silence. I remained there all night, only seeing daylight again the next morning when the school security guard found me.

When I returned home, Mom and Winona were enjoying breakfast at the dining table.

Taking in my disheveled, dust-covered appearance, Mom exploded. She snatched up a broom and began hitting me relentlessly.

No matter how much I tried to explain, not a word got through. She just kept beating me.

At the time, Grandma was still alive. I escaped to her house and tearfully recounted what had happened.

Utterly incensed, Grandma rushed back to the Langdon residence with me, determined to seek justice.

However, when confronted, all Mom said was, "Winnie didn't do it on purpose."

That sent Grandma into a rage. After she berated Mom harshly, Mom finally made Winona apologize to me.

Mr. Lintell's sigh dragged me back to the present. He didn't press the matter further, simply finished his cigarette and stubbed it out.

…

That afternoon, there was a new lead. The police had found the first crime scene—a dilapidated, unfinished building.

This news stirred the investigative team. They immediately prepared to process the scene.

As a forensic doctor, Mom was naturally an indispensable part of the team. Expression stern and focused, she changed into her gear and rushed toward the abandoned building with the others.

The instant they stepped out of their cars, a revolting stench assaulted them. It was so sharp and foul that many felt the urge to vomit.

I watched as Mom and the rest frowned, steeled themselves, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

The interior was dim, and the nauseating smell was even thicker here. Stains mottled the walls, while trash and debris littered the ground. Most jarring, however, was the blood splattered everywhere.

Despite being a spirit with no physical body, I still found myself shaking at the ghastly sight.

The day I was kidnapped by my murderer, the skies had been dark and foreboding.

I had received a call from Winona. Her voice sounded exceptionally sincere as she told me that she had finally realized the error of her ways. To express her regret for all she had done over the years, she wanted to visit Grandma's grave and pay her respects.

At the time, I hadn't suspected a thing, thinking people could always turn over a new leaf. So, I agreed to meet her.

Upon arriving at the address she sent me, I saw that it was an abandoned factory in a remote part of the city. It was completely deserted, not a single soul in sight. All I could hear was the wind whistling.

I had barely stepped inside when a powerful force struck me from behind, knocking me unconscious.

As I slowly came to, I vaguely heard Winona talking with a man.

Her voice was firm, laced with a hint of smug delight. "Since I've tricked her here for you, you can get your revenge now. Don't bother me again after this."

The man frowned, seemingly displeased with her attitude. "Watch your mouth. If anything happens, don't blame me for what I'll do to you."

Winona waved a dismissive hand. "Relax. I want her dead even more than you do."