After My Mother Died, I Went Mad

A flood took away my aunt.

Dad said she lost her life while trying to save Mom.

To mourn my aunt, the Bennett family not only held a grand memorial service but also promised to treat her only adopted child as their own.

I cried harder than anyone else.

Because only I knew that the one lying in the coffin was not my aunt, but her twin sister—my mother.

How could a child not recognize her own mother?

I told Dad about this, and he comforted me, “Sweetheart, you must be overthinking. How could Dad possibly mistake who your real mother is?”

But when I raised my doubts again, his face darkened.

Using illness as an excuse, he sent me abroad, and in the end, I was kidnapped and killed.

After my death, I watched my father hold my aunt in his arms, suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he announced my passing, and simultaneously name my aunt’s adopted child as the next heir to the Bennett family.

I understood everything.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the funeral.

Dad and my aunt were exchanging meaningful glances.

I wiped away my tears and, in front of the company’s veteran board members, said, “I’m not capable enough. I plan to transfer my shares back to Dad and Mom.”

Dad and my aunt were overjoyed, unaware that this was the death sentence I was handing them...

Almost everyone attending the memorial service was a prominent figure.

Upon hearing my words, the whole room was in an uproar.

Greedy delight flashed in my aunt’s eyes, and she was just about to agree on Dad’s behalf.

Dad quickly stopped her, walked over to me, bent down to study my face, and asked gently, “Sweetheart, why do you suddenly want to transfer your shares back to Dad and Mom? Did something happen?”

I froze, as if coiled by a venomous snake.

But I couldn’t give myself away. Lowering my gaze to hide my fear, I said pitifully, “Dad, I’m scared…”

George Anderson, one of the company elders, asked in confusion, “What are you afraid of?”

A flash of ruthless malice crossed Dad’s eyes.

Pretending not to notice, I continued timidly, “Since I was little, I’ve always lived according to what Dad and Mom wanted. I’ve never figured out what I truly want for myself, and I can’t bear the weight of running such a big company.”

“Dad, please agree to let me go out into the world. Once I’ve figured things out, I’ll come back. That way, I won’t delay inheriting the company!”

There was some surprise among the crowd—they hadn’t expected this to be my reason.

Dad subtly relaxed.

George Anderson looked at me with disappointment and irritation. “Sophie, we’ve always worked hard to raise you. You’re about to inherit the company, and now you’re running away?”

Several other elders also scolded me for being unambitious.

I wasn’t surprised. They were veteran subordinates who had fought alongside my grandfather to build the company, not only supporting my mother but also pouring their efforts into grooming me.

In their eyes, I was the only rightful heir.

George Anderson turned to my aunt. “Julia, haven’t you always taught your child to be independent and strong? Why aren’t you saying something now?”

My aunt ignored him, but her tightly clenched fists betrayed her nervousness.

Dad intervened, “George, Julia has been deeply affected by Olivia’s death, and the child has been through a lot as well. Let’s not make things harder for them.”

He gently patted my head. “Sophie, Dad respects all your decisions.”

George sighed heavily.

My eyes reddened, and I said hesitantly, “Dad, can you agree to one more request of mine?”

A flash of wariness passed through his eyes, but his expression remained warm. “Go ahead.”