Of course, Grandpa Arthur hadn't treated Janine unfairly. He'd even set up a trust fund just for her—though the amount was nowhere near what the real Wright family heirs received.

Not long after arranging everything, Grandpa Arthur passed away due to illness.

On the day of his funeral, Janine didn't show up. Her phone went straight to voicemail.

At first, everyone just complained about how ungrateful and disrespectful she was. But as night fell and she still couldn't be reached, panic spread through the entire family.

They all split up to search for her, including Amelia.

By midnight, there was still no sign of Janine.

Then, just as everyone was losing hope, Madam Wright's phone rang. It was Janine.

The call lasted only a second—just enough for her to scream, "Help me!"

Soon after, the line went dead.

Using the phone's location, the family rushed to find her.

They arrived at a run-down house on the outskirts of the city. Janine was standing on the rooftop, trembling, like someone was forcing her toward the edge.

Just as the Wrights called out to her—she fell.

When they looked up in shock, they saw Amelia standing on the same rooftop.

Meanwhile, Janine, barely conscious, murmured weakly as she was carried away, "Sister... I'll never steal our family from you again... Please... don't hurt me..."

From that day on, Amelia's shares were transferred back to Janine, and she became the most hated person in the Wright household.

Now, back at the dinner table, Kenneth's accusations echoed in her ears. Amelia stood frozen, unable to utter a word.

She just watched, blankly, as one by one, her family members turned away and left the dining room.

Then, quietly, she walked to the farthest corner of the villa and sat on her bed in silence. Her fingers trembled slightly, the only sign that she hadn't gone completely numb.

I floated to stand before her, speaking firmly. "There's no way you did that to Janine. You're not that kind of person."

She lifted her head, tears spilling freely down her face. "Sherry... they don't believe me. Not a single one of them..."

"That day, I was out looking for Janine too. Then I got a text—an address saying she was there. I rushed over, but the moment she saw me, she smiled... and jumped."

"I swear, I didn't do anything."

I stayed beside her, quietly keeping her company until her sobs faded into shaky breaths.

Then she whispered, "Thank you, Sherry."

I waved her off. "Please, you didn't even dare skip class to get bubble tea with me back then—you think I'd believe you had the guts to push someone off a roof? Only that bunch of brainless walnuts in your family would believe such nonsense!"

Amelia actually laughed through her tears. "Don't worry, Sherry. I've got another plan. I'll definitely get you that money."

I thought she'd come up with some brilliant schemes, but I was wrong.

The next morning, she marched straight to Denver's company—with divorce papers in hand.

On the way there, she smiled shyly.

"Sherry, if I divorce Denver and split the marital assets, I can get enough money to pay off your debt!"

I was about to tell her not to sacrifice her happiness for me when she suddenly squared her shoulders and stormed into the building. But the moment we stepped inside, the receptionist stopped her.

"Good morning, Ma'am. Do you have an appointment?"

I couldn't help sneering, "Wow. You need an appointment to see your own husband?"

Amelia blushed slightly and whispered to the receptionist, "I'm Mr. Fletcher's wife. Could you please tell him I need to see him?"

The receptionist's expression turned icy and disdainful. "Madam, if you're going to pretend, at least try harder. Mr. Fletcher is currently dining with his wife in the lounge. If you don't leave, I'll have to call security."

Amelia's face went completely pale.

She turned to me, panic flickering in her eyes—and then suddenly dashed toward the elevator.

The receptionist immediately shouted, "Security! Security!"

It didn't take long before security guards rushed over, pinning Amelia to the floor and trying to drag her out of the building.

Her hands clung desperately to the pillar, fingernails scraping against the surface and leaving long white scratches.

I hovered anxiously nearby, pacing in circles—but there was nothing I could do.

No one could see me, no one could hear me. No one except Amelia.

Just then, the elevator chimed.

Janine walked out with a man beside her, chatting and laughing intimately.

Amelia froze for a second, then suddenly shouted, "Denver!"

The moment Denver saw her, disgust flickered across his face.

"What are you doing here?"

Amelia broke free from the guard, yanked a folder from her bag, and held it out to him.

"You've always wanted a divorce, haven't you? Fine. I agree."

The receptionist and the guards exchanged glances—then looked at Denver, then at Amelia, and finally at Janine. The look on their faces was... priceless.

Denver's lips tightened into a thin, hard line. Suppressing his anger, he said coldly, "Go upstairs. We'll talk there."

As soon as the office door closed, he flung the divorce agreement at Amelia's face.

"Amelia, must you humiliate Janine like this?"

Janine quickly stepped forward, clutching Denver's arm with teary eyes.

"Denver, please don't blame my sister. She's your real wife. It's all my fault. I'll leave right now."

She picked up her bag and turned dramatically toward the door, wiping at her eyes as though she were the victim of some great tragedy.

Denver pulled her back into his arms, his voice soft and indulgent.

"Janine, you're pregnant now. Don't cry. Be good and stay here—I'll protect you."

Amelia just stood there, staring blankly at the scene before her. It was as if her heart had simply stopped working.

Then, as her gaze met mine, something flickered behind her empty eyes.

She knelt, picked up the scattered divorce papers, and placed them gently on Denver's desk.

Her voice was calm—painfully calm.

"Denver, I know it's always been Janine you love. Now that she's pregnant, you should give her the title she deserves."

A flicker of triumph flashed in Janine's eyes—but it quickly twisted into jealousy and spite.

Denver's expression hardened.

"Amelia, are you proud of yourself? You know the Fletcher family would never accept a disabled daughter-in-law, so you schemed against Janine, made her fall, and now you're pretending to be noble to win my sympathy? Do you think I can't see through you?"

I froze.

So he really did love Janine, but married Amelia only because Janine got injured and limped afterward.

"Oh, so the scheming bitch ruined her own life? Talk about karma!"

I floated around Janine's head, making faces at her even though she couldn't see me.

At least, Amelia laughed through her tears.

That single smile seemed to ignite Denver's fury all over again.

"Amelia, so what if you have the title of Mrs. Fletcher? Only Janine can give birth to the Fletcher family's heir. You'll never have anything!"

With that, he called security and had her "escorted" out.

A while later, Amelia sat down on the curb outside the company, staring blankly ahead. Her eyes were red but empty.

"Sherry," she whispered, "I'm sorry. I probably can't help you repay that one hundred million."

Her voice cracked. "I'm useless. I couldn't save you six years ago... and I can't save you now."

Her tears fell, heavy and silent, splashing onto her hands.

I reached out instinctively to wipe them away, but my hand passed straight through. Still, I stubbornly tried again and again.

"Amelia," I said softly, "whether you can help me or not doesn't matter. I just want you to be brave—like you were six years ago."

She looked up at me, her dazed expression slowly clearing. A hint of determination flickered in her eyes.

"Sherry, there are still nine days left. I'll definitely find a way!"

As soon as Amelia said that, the sharp sound of brakes pierced the air.

A familiar, lazy voice followed from the shiny Porsche parked beside her.

"Sister-in-law, even if you sit under the company building all day, my brother still won't notice. Want me to help... hey, what's that ghost thing floating next to you?!"

I turned toward Donald, who was sitting in the driver's seat, and accidentally let my eyeballs fly right out of their sockets.

How unlucky—one of them smacked him right in the face.

"Ah, sorry! I've been dead for a while, and, uh... some of my parts are past their warranty."

I hurriedly grabbed my eyeballs, popped them back in, and blinked.

When my vision cleared, Donald was already foaming at the mouth and fainting dead away.

By the time he woke up again, we were already at Amelia's house.

I waved cheerfully. "Hey there!"

He blinked, then screamed, "G-Ghost!!"

"Donald, she's not a ghost, she's my good—" Amelia began, but I quickly winked at her.

Being my best friend for years, she instantly caught on.

"Yes," she said firmly. "She is a ghost."

Donald was speechless.

For some reason, hearing her admit it so bluntly made it sound less terrifying.

I grinned at him, then dramatically folded my limbs, rotated my head 180 degrees, and crawled creepily across the floor toward him.

Donald's face turned as pale as a sheet, and he almost fainted again.

Luckily, Amelia acted fast—she grabbed a bottle of medicated oil from the table and poured a generous amount straight into his nostrils.

Donald's eyes watered instantly. "I'll confess! I'll confess!" he sobbed. "I knew I couldn't handle my evil brother's mess, so I helped him transfer something onto a USB drive! And now—now I'm seeing ghosts!"

My intuition told me that USB drive was important. "Where's the USB drive now?" I demanded.

"I—I just dropped it off at my brother's company. That's where I was when I ran into you!"

"Hurry! Take us there!" I said.

Donald hesitated, his expression reluctant and fearful.

So I decided to give him a little motivation.

I twisted my body 720 degrees and yanked out my intestines, looping them gently around his neck.

Donald screamed bloody murder and hit the accelerator, speeding straight toward Denver's company.

...

In the passenger seat, Amelia stared blankly ahead, her voice soft. "Sherry... do we really have to get that USB drive?"

I could tell she didn't want to go back—to the same place where she'd been humiliated earlier.

But I knew we had to.

When I returned to the mortal world, Hades told me that only Amelia could see me. Now that Donald could too, it meant he was connected to my unfinished business somehow.

I nodded seriously.

Amelia exhaled and said, "Alright. I believe you."

Donald held a high position in the company, so we weren't stopped this time when we walked in. Still, the expression on the receptionist's face was priceless—like she was watching a soap opera play out live.

When we reached Denver's office, the secretary blocked the doorway. "Sir Donald, Sir Denver took Miss Janine for a prenatal checkup. He's not here right now."

Donald smiled politely. "That's fine. I just came to get something."

The secretary's gaze flicked briefly toward Amelia, her expression full of unspoken gossip.

Taking advantage of the moment, I whispered to Donald, "Go on. Plug in the USB and take a photo of whatever's inside."

He gave a bitter smile but didn't dare refuse.

Amelia waited in the car while I followed Donald into the office. He opened the drawer, retrieved a sleek USB drive, and plugged it into the computer.

The screen loaded—then froze for a long, heavy second.

When the contents appeared, all of us went completely silent.

I followed Donald back to the car.

Amelia leaned forward anxiously. "What's in the USB drive?"

I took a deep breath. "You'd better prepare yourself."

Donald unlocked his phone, opened the video, and turned the screen toward her.