I was stunned.

It was my stepsister—Lesley.

Just like in my previous life, she confidently announced the very same conclusion I had just finished calculating.

Facing the astonished crowd, she declared, “I can communicate with the dead. I heard the victim’s spirit calling to me earlier. Hurry—go now!”

Then she turned to me and dramatically fell to her knees, sobbing.

“Sis, I just couldn’t stand by and watch you delay things on purpose—extorting money from the victim’s family.”

“I swear, I’ll never sabotage your work again. Please don’t hit me this time, okay?”

I clutched the piece of paper in my hand, frozen in shock and disbelief.

Why?

Why was she still able to steal my results?

The crowd was already in an uproar.

Some bystanders even picked up clumps of mud and threw them at me.

“Tch. What expert?! Feeding off the dead like a leech—how disgusting!”

“What agency does she work for? I’m going to report her!”

Just then, Darius stepped in front of me, trying to calm the furious mob.

“Everyone, please. Let’s not jump to conclusions. What Lesley said might not be true. I believe Leizl is innocent.”

But before he could finish, the voice of a team member crackled through the walkie-talkie—excited and breathless.

“Captain! We found him! Exactly three kilometers downstream—just like the girl who said she could talk to spirits described!”

That sealed it.

To the onlookers, this was undeniable proof: Lesley could communicate with the dead.

Cheers erupted around her as she was lifted to the center of the crowd like a hero.

The captain, eyes brimming with tears, bowed repeatedly to her. “Thank you, thank you!”

The elderly woman even dropped to her knees and knocked her head against the ground in gratitude.

Only Darius turned to face me, disappointment darkening his expression.

“Leizl... were you really trying to extort money from a grieving family?”

Before I could even deny it, he continued sharply, “I get it now. No wonder you didn’t use your laptop and insisted on calculating by hand.”

“You were trying to stall for time—drag things out just long enough for the family to get desperate and agree to your price hike. Weren’t you?”

His words were like fuel to a wildfire.

The crowd, now fully convinced, clenched their fists in rage.

To them, if Lesley’s powers were real, then my crime must also be real.

They surged forward, pushing Darius aside with ease and surrounding me completely.

They wanted to beat the “soulless expert” who dared to profit off death—to release their fury on me.

The retrieval team did nothing to stop them.

The captain even shook his head at me with disgust. “Miss Leizl, I never thought you’d be this kind of person. I really misjudged you. Tch!”

Just as the first hand was raised to strike me, a police siren wailed in the distance.

The police had arrived.

Luckily, I had quietly called them the moment Lesley appeared. I knew how things would spiral.

Thank heavens they came in time—before the crowd could lay a hand on me.

I fled into the police car, disheveled and humiliated.

The crowd backed off slightly, restrained by the presence of law enforcement.

But then, just as I thought it was over, Darius pointed at me and shouted for everyone to hear.

“Leizl, I can’t believe you’d do something like this—deliberately delaying the rescue just to extort money!”

“Are you even human? You’re not worthy of being my girlfriend. I’m breaking up with you.”

“If you have any conscience left, you’ll get out of that car right now and apologize to the victim’s family!”

“If you just walk away like this, I won’t forgive you!”

His voice reignited the crowd’s fury.

They surrounded the police vehicle again, pounding on the windows, shouting for me to get out and kneel—to beg forgiveness from the grieving family.

Even the officers who rescued me, though they followed protocol and kept me safe, couldn’t hide the scorn in their eyes.

I stayed in the car, expression blank, heart cold.

I said nothing.

I only asked the police to get me out of there—as far away as possible.

After leaving the scene, I didn’t go home, nor did I return to work. Instead, I checked into the nearest hotel.

By then, the incident had completely blown up online.

Lesley was being hailed as a psychic with divine gifts—a beautiful, kind-hearted angel.

Praises flooded on every platform. Even several international brands had reached out, offering her ambassador deals.

As for me—I was being torn to shreds.

My father had already posted a public statement across every social media platform, formally disowning me.

Just like last time.

And then—the moment that truly crushed me came.

A group of internet users had found my mother’s gravesite.

They were now openly discussing their plans to dig up her ashes.

I couldn’t wait any longer.

I logged into my social media account and uploaded an audio recording I’d been holding onto.

Thankfully, in this life, I had prepared some evidence.

The recording was of my private conversation with the elderly woman by the river.

The condition I’d asked of her was for her to take back the thirty thousand dollars in fees.

I offered to help locate the body for free, making it clear that I couldn’t guarantee success.

With that, the accusation that I had extorted money in exchange for retrieving a corpse—collapsed entirely.

I thought, with the truth out, the public would finally calm down.

But I underestimated them.

Instead of justice, a new wave of mockery and hatred erupted.

“This recording is fake for sure. You expect us to believe a money-grubbing fraud like her would work for free?”

“Who knows when that audio was recorded? For all we know, Leizl staged the whole thing—found some random old lady to play aalong with.”

Even some of the corpse retrieval team members started livestreaming, fueling the flames.

One said bluntly, “Leizl always took payment. Suddenly doing it for free? I don’t buy it. Sounds shady as hell.”

The situation spiraled completely out of control.

That night, risking everything, I snuck to the cemetery and retrieved my mother’s ashes with my own hands.

By dawn, I sent an email to my workplace requesting a long leave of absence.

Then I headed south—back to my mother’s hometown—carrying her urn close to my chest.

My mother was from the south, raised in a scholarly family.

For love, she had left everything behind and followed my father to the north.

After her passing, my grandmother wanted to bring her home to be buried. But my mother left a will: she wanted to be buried in the city where my father lived.

Even in death, she wished to stay close to him.

But less than a month after her funeral, my father married Ophelia, who was already pregnant.

Soon after, Lesley was born.

If I count the days—Ophelia must have already been carrying that child while my mother was lying in a hospital bed, fighting for her life.

The night my mother died, she had refused to close her eyes, waiting for one last glimpse of my father.

But he never came.

He must’ve been with Ophelia that night.

Now that I’m grown up—and cast out by the very man she loved—I’ve decided to bring her home.

If my mother’s spirit was watching me now, I know she would understand. She would support me.

On the road back, I posted a statement online.

[From this day forward, I am officially withdrawing from the corpse retrieval team. I will no longer participate in any body recovery operations.]

Let Lesley keep copying me. Now that I’ve stepped away, let’s see what she’s really capable of.

If she truly has psychic powers, she’ll be fine. If not—she’ll be exposed, sooner or later.

Unsurprisingly, my announcement became trending news—and once again, I was targeted by relentless hate.

[Quit the team? What a joke. She was already fired!]

[How thick can someone’s skin get?]

[Anyone want to crowdfund a good slap across Leizl’s face?]

I only glanced at the comments before shutting it all off.

Because I finally arrived.

I had stepped onto my mother’s homeland—and standing there, waiting to greet me—was my grandmother.

The moment my grandmother saw me, she pulled me into a tight hug, her eyes red from crying.

Clutching my mother’s ashes, I followed her to the family cemetery, where we laid my mother to rest in her hometown soil.

On the way back, my grandmother noticed the sadness clouding my face. Worried, she gently asked if something had happened.

After a moment of hesitation, I told her everything.

I didn’t hide a single detail.

When I finished, my grandmother let out a cold laugh.

“Communicating with the dead? And people actually believe that nonsense?”

She patted my hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’ll get to the bottom of this for you.”

My grandmother had been a teacher all her life, and her former students now held high positions across various industries. She was deeply respected.

After she shared my story, many of her students were furious on my behalf. They promised to use every resource at their disposal to uncover the truth.

Over the next few months, I stayed at my grandmother’s old countryside home.

I rose with the sun and rested at dusk.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I could breathe freely.

I had peace.

Many of my grandmother’s former students came to visit often. They treated me like a cherished niece, doting on me like a princess.

One of them, in particular—a handsome, successful young man named Hector—stood out. He was only a few years older than me, yet one day he blushed and slipped a handwritten love letter into my hand.

Stunned, I stared at the letter.

Such an old-school confession. I couldn’t help but laugh, amused and touched at the same time.

Just when I thought I had finally left the corpse retrieval team behind, I got an unexpected phone call.

It was Darius.

“Leizl,” he said curtly, “come back immediately. We need you to locate a victim’s body.”

I frowned. “Is that an order?”

He replied flatly, “If you show up within 24 hours, I might consider getting back together with you.”

I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.

“Are you insane?” I said, then hung up—and blocked his number.

But just minutes later, another call came in.

It was my father this time.

His voice was even harsher. “Leizl Edwards, you’d better come back right now.”

I responded coldly, “You’re mistaken, Mr. Edwards. I’ve taken my mother’s surname. I’m Leizl Sanchez now.”

Then I hung up on him, too—and blocked him just the same.

Still, those two calls stirred something in me.

Why now?

They hadn’t contacted me for over a month. Why the sudden urgency?

I couldn’t shake the curiosity, so I did a quick online search.

What I found shocked me.

Even after disappearing for so long, I was still being dragged through the mud online.

Logic said the internet should’ve moved on to its next scandal by now. So why were people still wasting time attacking me?

And then I saw the reason.

Lesley.

Her fame hadn’t faded. On the contrary, she had only grown more popular.

She was now the face of numerous international brands, attending elite forums and galas, fully embraced by high society.

Every move she made was broadcast online, followed by adoring fans and endless praise.

But with every compliment she received, the public would inevitably bring me up—just to hurl more insults my way.

As for my father’s company, it was thriving thanks to her popularity and was now on the verge of going public.

The corpse retrieval team, however, wasn’t so lucky.

They had encountered several cases involving complex hydrological conditions and had repeatedly reached out to Lesley for help.

But she always had an excuse—too busy, prior engagements—and declined every time.

With no expert to guide them, they were forced to resort to cruder methods.

They began using iron hooks to drag along the riverbed—like plowing a field—hoping to snag the bodies.

By the time the corpses were retrieved, they were often beyond recognition, torn and mutilated by the hooks.

Grieving families would collapse in tears at the sight. The team’s reputation took a severe hit.

Some team members, wracked with guilt over the condition of the remains, began to suffer from depression.

Several were already showing signs of mental strain.