Chapter 3
Annie hurriedly called Aunt Lee into the bedroom.
“Aunt Lee, do I smell like perfume?”
Aunt Lee leaned in to sniff her wrist and neck. “No. Just a bit of shampoo in your hair.”
Annie frowned, paced, then asked, “When you served that dead girl before, what did she smell like?”
Aunt Lee thought for a moment. “Nothing, I think. She was poor and didn’t know how to enjoy life. A whole cabinet of perfumes and I never saw her use them. Not an ounce of ‘womanly fragrance’ on her!”
Aunt Lee was someone my mom placed in the Grant house six months ago. She said I got married for long and didn’t carry Liam’s child; Aunt Lee, a whiz with medicinal soups, would ‘nourish’ me.
The change in the Lee family’s attitude warmed me for a good while.
Even when Aunt Lee never cooked me a single proper meal, I still dared to hope my parents loved me a little after all.
Only later did I learn that the moment Aunt Lee walked into my life was the first step of their plan to replace me with Annie—observe my habits and secretly film me for Annie to imitate.
Hearing Aunt Lee mock me, Annie’s lips curled. “Not just poor—short‑lived, too.”
Aunt Lee blinked. “Short‑lived?”
Annie’s smile froze for a beat, then she smoothly recited the Lines she’d practiced. “Her health’s always been fragile. The old widow who raised her was forever saying she needed doctors and begging my parents to send more money.”
“Always asking us for cash. That old beggar raising a little beggar! Look at that girl who’s never seen the world—insists on doing everything herself. Now I can’t even naturally order the servants around.”
Furious, I lunged at her, kicking and punching, but my fists passed clean through. A ghost can’t bruise a liar.
The Lee family only sent money the first couple of years. After that, not a penny. Grandma Miller fed me by collecting trash.
They only remembered I existed when they needed a scapegoat.
Aunt Lee started offering solutions. “Why don’t you wash with the bathroom’s shampoo a few more times? Maybe the scent from the one you used at home hasn’t completely faded.”
“Zoey never demanded brands. She just used whatever the Grant house supplied. She wasn’t as…particular as you.”
Annie pressed her lips together. “I’ve been washing every day. Why won’t it go away? I’ll shower again.”
Once she shooed Aunt Lee out, Annie dialed a number.
“Master Smith, you pinned Zoey Lee’s soul, right?”
I drifted close enough to hear the reply crackle through the phone.
“Rest easy. I’ve bound her to the spirit‑binding altar. She won’t even get the chance to reincarnate!”
A ‘spirit‑binding altar,’ huh.
I rolled my eyes and floated a few laps around the room.
I didn’t know why I was shackled to her side, but if this ‘master’ were truly that capable he wouldn’t sound so obsequious. Business must be slow.
