Chapter 5
Bob had already dozed off in the armchair beside Lilith’s bed when the morning light filtered through the sheer curtains.
I hovered beside him, watching the small voice recorder on the bedside table.
The red light was still on, indicating it was still recording.
Lilith was in a deep slumber after taking the sedatives, but her eyelids fluttered incessantly, and her lips twitched occasionally-clear signs she was trapped in a horrific nightmare.
I hovered closer, trying to catch her mumbles.
“Not me… It’s Mom’s idea,” she slurred between breaths. “The medicine in the milk… The antidote… in the white bottle…”
My hands-if a soul could have hands-clenched tightly. She just confessed in her sleep.
I desperately turned to the recorder, praying it had captured those words.
Bob jolted awake. His first move was to check Lilith’s situation, and then, his eyes fell on the recorder’s glowing red light.
After a cautious glance at the shut door, he swiftly hit the stop button, took out the mini cassette, and discreetly tucked it into his suit’s inner pocket.
“Miss Emily Donovan,” Bob murmured to the air, “if you can hear me, I’ll listen to this tape at my clinic this noon. Maybe… we can find some evidence.”
“My soul trembled with hope. Bob was really trying to help me. I made the curtains sway gently in response. He nodded, his expression a mix of determination and fear.
Footsteps sounded outside the door. Bob immediately straightened, picking up the chart and pretending to make some notes. Mary entered, her eyes puffy and bloodshot, clearly showing she hadn’t slept all night.
“How is she?” Mary asked, her voice raw with exhaustion.
“The medication is working,” Bob replied calmly. “But she needs psychological intervention. This kind of trauma isn’t something sedatives alone can fix.”
Mary’s eyes widened. “What trauma? She’s just… under stress.”
Bob set down the medical chart and locked eyes with Mary. “Ma’am, I heard Miss Lilith Donovan mention medicine and milk. Does this relate to Miss Emily Donovan’s stomach cancer?”
Mary’s face instantly drained of color. “You must have misheard it. Lilith didn’t say anything.”
Bob’s voice turned stern. “I’m a doctor. If I suspect a criminal act has occurred, I am obligated to report it.”
“I dare you,” Mary snapped. Then, she lowered her voice and continued, “Dr. Smith, you’ve worked for our family for over a decade. You know how influential the Donovan family is. If you spread such nonsense, you won’t just lose your job-your entire career will be over.
Bob was silent for a moment and then replied calmly. “I’m merely stating the facts, Madam. Now, I need to go to the clinic to get more appropriate medication. Please make sure Miss Lilith Donovan is not left alone.”
After he left, Mary collapsed onto the edge of Lilith’s bed, her hands trembling uncontrollably.
She grabbed the white bottle from the nightstand, poured out two pills, and shoved them into Lilith’s mouth, forcing her to swallow with water.
“It’ll all be okay, baby,” Mary murmured, stroking Lilith’s hair. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. That bitch couldn’t beat you when she was alive, and she sure as hell won’t now that she’s dead.”
I hovered in front of Mary, close enough to see the bloodshot in her eyes.
My so-called biological mother was protecting the very person who killed me.
Rage seethed like molten lava in my soul, and the temperature in the room dropped sharply.
Mary shivered, rubbing her arms. She muttered, “Why is it suddenly so cold?”
I focused all my will, making the perfume bottle on the vanity slowly slide off and crash to the floor.
Glass shards flew everywhere, and the sharp scent of perfume instantly filled the room.
Mary jolted back with a shriek, her face as white as a sheet. “W-Who’s there?”
I made the curtains sway without any breeze and the bedside lamp flicker erratically.
Mary’s breathing grew rapid; she frantically pressed the emergency button in panic.
“HELP!” she shrieked.
Mark and another maid rushed in. Mary pointed wildly at the empty air, babbling, “There’s… something here. Emily, it’s Emily’s soul.”
Mark looked confused. “Madam, you’re exhausted. Shall I fetch you some sedatives as well?”
“It’s not my illusion,” Mary screamed hysterically. “Didn’t you see? The perfume bottle fell by itself. The curtains are moving by themselves.”
The servants exchanged worried glances, clearly thinking Mary was losing her mind just like Lilith. Mark signaled the maid to fetch more sedatives while he tried to soothe Mary. “Of course, Madam. We’ll take care of it. Why don’t you get some rest?”
Mark led Mary out of the room, leaving the maid to watch over Lilith.
I hovered in the corner of the ceiling, plotting my next move.
Chapter 5
Bob would listen to the tape at noon, and maybe he’d finally find proof that I’d been poisoned.
But for now, I needed to practice controlling my psychic power.
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This morning’s little demonstration showed my powers were growing, but to exact true vengeance, I’d need much more strength.
I drifted toward the rarely visited attic of the manor, where dust-covered relics of the past were piled high.
In a shadowy corner, I discover a box of childhood toys-Lilith’s old dolls, building blocks, and picture books. I focused my will and tried to make a rag doll rise.
At first, the doll only swayed lightly.
I recalled Lilith’s mocking laughter, the sting of Jerry’s betrayal, and the agony of my stomach cancer… Each memory fueled my rage like gasoline to a flame, amplifying my psychic power.
Slowly, the doll lifted off, hovering in midair.
I keep practicing, making more toys move, spin, collide, and defy gravity.
With every success, my control of my psychic power sharpened.
༤ ༣
But each use of my power brought a tearing pain. My spectral form grew faintly translucent, as if my very essence were being consumed.
Using psychic energy demanded sacrifice. But if it meant making Lilith and the Donovans pay, I’d gladly bear it.
At noon, I drifted into Bob’s clinic-a modest but tidy office on the third floor of an old building in the east of the city.
It was simple yet clean.
Bob locked the door, drew down the blinds, took a mini cassette tape from his pocket, and placed it into the recorder.
£
The tape began to play. At first, it produced only faint rustles.
Then, Lilith’s fragmented voice came through. “Medicine in the milk… Every day… Mom said it has to be this way… Antidote in the white bottle… Emily will take everything away… She has to disappear…”
Bob’s hands trembled.
He rewound and replayed the tape several times, then snatched a medical journal from the shelf, flipping through it frantically.
“Thallium compounds,” he muttered to himself. “Chronic poisoning symptoms can mimic stomach cancer. The antidote is Prussian blue…”
He slammed the journal shut, his face drained of color. “They really poisoned her, methodically, long-term…”
I made the pen on the desk roll across the paper and scrawled out: [Help me.]
Bob sucked in a sharp breath but quickly composed himself. “Miss Emily Donovan, I’ll help you. But I need more evidence. This tape alone isn’t enough to convict them. They could just claim Lilith was having a nightmare.”
I paused for a moment and made the pen move again: [Study. Documents.]
Bob asked, “Evidence is in Dylan’s study?”
I scrawled: [Yes. Locked.]
Bob fell silent and thought for a few seconds before saying, “I need to see those documents myself. But Donovan Manor is on high alert right now…” Suddenly, his eyes lit up. “Miss Lilith Donovan Manor needs a psychiatrist. I could recommend a colleague…”
I realized what he was planning.
A psychiatrist could legitimately enter Donovan Manor and even request to inspect the premises to assess the patient’s sources of stress.
The pen scrawled: [Danger. Be careful.]
Bob let out a bitter laugh. “I’ve been a doctor for twenty years and saved countless lives. But if even a crime like this can be covered up, then what has my whole career been for?”
He took out his phone and dialed. “Dr. Gloria Sinclair? It’s Bob speaking. I have a special case that requires your expertise…”
The plan was now in motion.
Bob would arrange for a trusted psychiatrist to enter Donovan Manor, seizing the opportunity to search the study for evidence.
Meanwhile, I needed to keep pushing Lilith toward a complete mental breakdown. Maybe then, she’d reveal more details.
Upon returning to Donovan Manor, a tense atmosphere hung in the air. Dylan had just come back from work and was furious in the living room.
“The wedding must proceed as scheduled,” he roared. “The press has already covered it, and all the guests are invited. Postponing nów would only raise unnecessary suspicions.”
“But Lilith’s condition…” Mary sobbed, her voice trembling.
“Then increase her dosage,” Dylan said coldly. “She just needs to hold on until the wedding. After that, we can send her abroad for recovery.”
This was what the Donovan family called love-always conditional, always with a price.
I wonder how Lilith would feel if she ever saw her father’s true colors.
I floated upstairs and found Lilith awake, her eyes vacant and glassy-clearly still under the effects of the drugs.
She sat alone by the bay window, mechanically stroking her engagement ring.
Suddenly, she rasped, her voice hoarse, “I know you’re here. I can feel it.
I made the curtains sway gently.
Lilith’s lips trembled as she spoke up, “You’ve won, okay? I’m going insane… Jerry looks at me like I’m a lunatic. Dad just wants my wedding to be held to save face…”
She was actually confiding in me? How ironic. I made the dressing stool shift a few inches.
Lilith stared at the moving stool, and suddenly tears streamed down her face. “I’m sorry. I apologize, okay? But what else could I do? From the day you came back, I knew you’d take everything.
“Even though Mom and Dad pretended to accept me, I knew they were comparing us. I could never measure up to their real daughter.”
The real daughter of Mary and Dylan? But she was… Oh, she had no idea about the truth.
A sudden realization struck me-Lilith didn’t even know she was actually Dylan’s illegitimate daughter.
She thought she was just an ordinary girl switched at birth, while I was the true heiress of the Donovan family.
What a cruel irony.
She murdered me to secure her place, yet she never realized her own identity was just as indecent.
This news was priceless.
I could already picture it-how Lilith’s entire world would shatter when the truth came to light.
As dusk fell, Bob arrived at Donovan Manor with Dr. Gloria Sinclair, the psychiatrist he had mentioned.
Gloria was a middle-aged woman, keen-eyed with a distinctly professional demeanor.
Though Dylan was clearly reluctant, he finally agreed to let her evaluate Lilith’s condition under Bob’s persistent urging.
Gloria explained to Dylan, “After severe trauma, patients sometimes return to the source in search of resolution.
“I recommend a comprehensive evaluation of Miss Lilith Donovan’s living environment, including her private quarters and the areas she frequents. This can help us identify potential sources of stress.”
Dylan shifted uneasily, but he couldn’t refuse the professional advice. He replied, “Very well, but my study is off-limits. That’s my private space.”
11:44 Sat, Oct 4
Chapter 5
“Understood,” Gloria replied with a polite smile. “Shall we begin with the bedroom then?”
I followed them upstairs, keeping close behind.
Gloria conducted a brief evaluation with Lilith before inspecting her bedroom.
FA 35 vouchers
Seizing the moment, Bob whispered to Gloria, “The study is crucial. We must find a way
The opportunity came sooner than expected.
inside.”
During the evaluation, Lilith suddenly broke down and ran out of the room while screaming. Everyone rushed after her. In the chaos, Bob swiftly slipped a key to Gloria and gestured toward the study. Gloria got the message. Pretending she needed the restroom, she quietly slipped into the study instead. I followed close behind, watching as she expertly put on gloves and began examining the locked drawer. “Need a password,” she murmured, trying several combinations without success.
I focused, making a pen roll across the desk and pointing to a date on the calendar-Lilith’s birthday. Gloria arched her eyebrows and entered the date. The drawer popped open with a click.
She quickly flipped through the files and found the medical reports and hospital records.
Pulling a compact camera from her pocket, she swiftly photographed every crucial page.
“So that’s the truth,” she muttered, her eyes widening at the hospital records. “Lilith is the illegitimate daughter, and Emily is the real…”
Footsteps sounded outside the door. Gloria quickly put the documents away, locked the drawer, and slipped over to the bookshelf, pretending to examine the books. Dylan pushed the door open, his face dark with suspicion.
“Dr. Sinclair, what are you doing here?” he demanded.
“Assessing how the environment affects the patient,” Gloria replied with professional calm. “Are these books just for show, or have they actually been read? Reading habits can reflect a family’s intellectual environment.”
Dylan seemed to reluctantly accept this explanation and urged her to return to the evaluation.
Before leaving, Gloria gave an almost imperceptible nod in my direction.
The plan worked.
Now that we finally had the evidence, all that was left was to wait for the perfect moment to expose them.
But before I vanished for good, there was one last thing I had to do-force Lilith and the entire Donovans to confess their crimes with their own lips.
Chapter 5
In the dead of night, when all was silent, I drifted to Lilith’s bedside. The sedatives had plunged her into sleep, but her dreams were anything but peaceful.
I gently touched her forehead, letting my consciousness slip into her nightmare.
She stood in a long corridor lined with countless mirrors.
In every reflection was me-the healthy me, the sick me, the dead me. She screamed and ran, but the hallway stretched on endlessly.
“Why did you kill me?” my voice echoed from every direction.
“I had no choice,” Lilith sobbed in her dream. “Mom said if you came back, you’d take everything from me. She said we had to take action first.”
“What did you use to kill me?” I asked.
She replied, “The medicine… in your nightly milk… Mom said it would make you sick slowly, so no one would ever suspect us.”
Suddenly, the dream shifted. Lilith was at the wedding, but every guest was with the same face-my face.
Jerry lifted the bride’s veil, revealing my decaying face underneath. Lilith woke with a piercing scream, drenched in cold sweat.
I stood at her bedside, mustering all my psychic power to show my real form. In the mirror, my form flickered in and out of visibility-my face deathly pale, blood trickling from my mouth.
Why did you kill me, my dear sister?” I asked, my voice howling like an icy wind.
Lilith’s scream pierced through the entire house. The lights snapped on as people rushed in, only to see her
ysterically pointing at an empty corner, shrieking, “She’s here. Emily is here. She’s going to KILL me.”
Mary clung to Lilith, while Dylan’s expression shifted from worry to icy resolve.
Enough,” he said to Bob. “Arrange for the psychiatric facility. She leaves for there tomorrow morning.”
Dad?” Lilith gasped, unable to believe her ears. “What did you say?”
You need professional treatment, Lilith,” Dylan replied coldly. “The wedding is postponed indefinitely.”
Lilith’s breakdown filled me with unprecedented power. Psychic power surged through me like a tidal wave. It was enough to let me do so much more.
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But at the same time, my spectral form grew increasingly translucent-the toll of using my powers was mounting, but it didn’t matter.
Before I faded completely, I had one final goal-to expose the Donovans’s crimes in broad daylight for all to
vitness.
