Chapter 3My sister wants to take my place.

Faye hurriedly called Mrs. Jenkins into the bedroom.

“Can you smell perfume on me?”

Mrs. Jenkins leaned close, sniffing Faye’s arms and neck. “No, I only smell your shampoo.”

Faye frowned, pacing back and forth. “When you worked for Elara, what did she smell like?”

Mrs. Jenkins thought for a moment. “She didn’t wear perfume. She never used any of the bottles in her cabinet. Honestly, she smelled of nothing—like she didn’t care to enjoy life.”

Mrs. Jenkins had been hired by my mother six months ago, supposedly to help me with herbal broths since I hadn’t conceived.

I was thrilled by my parents’ sudden care for me.

Even though Mrs. Jenkins never cooked for me, it filled me with hope that maybe, just maybe, my parents had started to care.

But I later learned that from the moment Mrs. Jenkins stepped into the house, she was part of the plan.

Her real job was to observe my habits and secretly film me, so Faye could perfect her impersonation.

Faye smirked at Mrs. Jenkins’ remarks. “Not just unlucky—she was doomed from the start.”

Mrs. Jenkins seemed puzzled. “Doomed?”

Faye’s smirk faltered for a moment before she recovered and delivered her rehearsed line.

“She was always sick. The old widow who raised her was constantly begging my parents for more money to take her to the doctor.”

“All that woman ever did was ask us for money. A beggar raising another beggar! Elara was so pathetic, trying to do everything herself. No wonder she couldn’t even manage the house staff.”

I lunged at Faye, throwing punches and kicks, but my fists went right through her.

The Dawsons had only sent money for the first few years, and after that, Grandma Dawson paid for everything herself, collecting scraps to raise me.

They only remembered me when they needed someone to take the fall.

Mrs. Jenkins suggested, “Why don’t you wash your hair again? Maybe it’s leftover shampoo from your place that hasn’t worn off yet.”

“Elara wasn’t picky about these things. She just used whatever Hawthorne Holdings provided. She wasn’t nearly as particular as you are.”

Faye pursed her lips, irritated. “I wash my hair every day—why isn’t it gone yet? I’ll wash it again later.”

Faye sent Mrs. Jenkins out of the room and then dialed a number.

“Master Evans, have you trapped Elara’s ghost like you promised?”

I hovered near the phone, listening to the reply on the other end.

“Don’t worry, I’ve bound her soul to the amulet. She won’t even have a chance to reincarnate!”

I rolled my eyes as I floated around the room.

Master or not, the man had no spine. He sounded more like a salesman desperate to keep his business.