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.

Not long ago, another boy went missing in the river.

It had already been ten days.

His family publicly stated that they didn’t care how much it cost—they only wanted his body recovered intact.

They would absolutely not allow the use of iron hooks.

The corpse retrieval team had been searching around the clock, but the body remained lost.

As the situation grew more urgent, public pressure mounted.

Online, people began calling for Lesley to step in again.

Some even showed up at her events, asking when she’d use her “spiritual powers” to help find the boy.

Lesley could no longer refuse.

The internet was starting to question her so-called psychic abilities.

No wonder Darius and my father had suddenly become desperate for me to return.

They knew perfectly well—without me, Lesley had no way to locate the body.

And that realization chilled me to the bone.

So they knew the truth all along.

These two men—once the most important in my life—had both betrayed me.

Just then, a push notification lit up my phone.

Lesley had gone live.

I opened the stream.

On-screen, she was crying, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m not refusing to help. It’s not that I don’t want to find the boy’s body...” she choked out. “It’s just... because of my sister, Leizl.”

Her words sent a rush of blood to my head—I nearly cursed out loud.

The comment section exploded.

[That vile woman threatened you again, didn’t she?]

[Leizl should rot in hell.]

[Someone run her over already and rid the world of this plague.]

Then, Lesley wiped her tears and added tearfully, “You’ve all misunderstood my sister. She hasn’t threatened me this time.”

“She’s actually been begging me to help her return to the corpse retrieval team. She’s asked me so many times...”

“I’m here today to ask the public—please, give my sister a second chance. Let her come back.”

“If she’s willing to return to the field, then I promise—I’ll go too.”

The comments came flooding in.

[Lesley is truly beautiful inside and out.]

[She’s already so successful, yet still wants to help her sister. What a saint.

[Leizl’s got such a dark history. I just hope she doesn’t drag Lesley down with her.]

Others chimed in more aggressively.

[At the very least, shouldn’t Leizl post an apology by now?]

[Yeah, Lesley is already pleading on her behalf, and she’s still playing dead? Shameless!]

[What now, is she waiting for us to beg her again? Can’t get enough of playing the victim, huh?]

Then, on the livestream, Lesley picked up her phone.

“I’ll call my sister now and tell her the good news,” she smiled sweetly.

A second later, my phone rang.

I didn’t answer.

And just as I expected, the backlash was immediate.

I watched the flood of insults and slurs scroll by.

I could only laugh bitterly.

You were the ones who banished me. And now you’re the ones forcing me back.

Lesley, what a masterclass in manipulation.

Right then, another message came in—it was from Hector.

[Leizl, I’ve uncovered the truth about that incident. See the attachment.]

I quickly opened it and skimmed the contents—and everything became clear.

Before I could react further, my phone rang again.

It was Lesley.

This time, I answered.

Her voice lit up with excitement. “Sis, everyone online is hoping you’ll return to the team. Would you be willing?”

I smiled. “Of course.”

Lesley, I know your secret now.

Two lifetimes of betrayal, I won’t let you walk away unscathed.