My Mother Killed Me For Her Stepdaughter novel Chapter 36

In my previous life, I had answered a frantic call from my sister's assistant, Sophia, only to arrive at her house to find my sister's body, already covered with a white sheet.

I collapsed to the floor, trembling as I peeled back the sheet. Her face was a sickly shade of blue, her eyes bulging grotesquely. The coroner concluded it was carbon monoxide poisoning, likely a suicide.

As they wheeled her body away, I clung to the stretcher, sobbing until my voice was hoarse, refusing to let them take her.

Then, Sophia, who had always been respectful and polite, slapped me so hard that my ears rang.

"Ella! Stop putting on this act! Your sister killed herself because of you!"

Her accusations came fast and furious.

"You drove her to depression! You even sold her company behind her back—the company that was her life's work. How could you be so heartless?"

"All those years of gambling, drinking, and partying, living off your sister's hard-earned money—you never showed a shred of gratitude! Instead, you sold the company and siphoned off the profits. You pushed her to the brink!"

Her words stunned me into silence. What company sale? What depression? I couldn't make sense of it.

Before I could gather my thoughts, Daniel arrived. I ran to him, desperate for comfort. After my sister, he was the person I trusted most.

But instead of consoling me, he lashed out in anger.

"Ella, have you lost your mind? I told you not to sell the company! How could you? For money? Your sister raised you after your parents died, and this is how you repay her?"

"Claire slaved away, working ten-hour days to build her business from scratch, and you drove her to depression and suicide. You deserve to rot in hell!"

More objects—glass bottles, cigarette butts, even rocks—came flying my way.

The livestreamers zoomed in, capturing every cut and bruise, every tear-streaked moment. I became the internet's favorite punching bag.

The man I had planned to spend my life with ensured my incarceration. And when I sought a retrial, a fellow inmate—on death row—stabbed me to death.

Until my last breath, I couldn't understand how my bright, loving sister had chosen to end her life on the eve of my birthday.

Now, with this second chance, I will uncover the truth.