In the third year after my death, my mother finally remembered me.

But it wasn't out of longing—it was because my younger sister's leukemia had relapsed, and she urgently needed a bone marrow transplant.

Clutching a donation agreement, my mother made her way to the basement I once lived in. She kicked open the door and was met with a floor slick with blood and scattered medicine bottles.

"Cassidy, what game are you playing this time? Do you really think a self-inflicted act of suffering could fool me? Why are you so selfish? Why won't you save your own sister?"

Her voice roared with anger, echoing through the space.

From the crowd that had gathered to watch, a ragged little boy stepped forward.

"Are you talking about Cassidy Porter? She… she died three years ago of organ failure… she vomited so much blood…"

I hovered at the edge of the bed, watching as Mom yanked the child by the collar, her face twisted with impatience.

"Nonsense!" she snapped. "The doctors said Cassidy had a strong constitution. How could she die of organ failure?"

The child's voice trembled. "I'm not lying! And… Cassidy used to throw up blood all the time when she did odd jobs."

"That's enough!" Mom shoved her away violently. "Three years ago, Cassidy stole all the jewelry in this house and took the maid with her. How could she possibly be doing odd jobs?"

The child broke down, tears streaming.

Mom lifted her head and glared at the crowd. "Cassidy! I know you're here. Get out here right now!"

Someone in the crowd scooped up the child, shooting Mom a look full of disdain.

"Just because you're rich doesn't mean you can bully a child! This kid's not lying. Cassidy really did die three years ago! If you don't believe it, go check under the bed yourself!"

The crowd parted.

Mom ordered someone to overturn the rickety bed. Inside was a water bottle filled with ashen gray bones.

"A cheap fake death trick!" she spat, her eyes burning with malice as she glared at the doorway. "Cassidy! If you don't come out now, I'll make sure you never earn a single cent doing odd jobs!"

I shivered at her words, hovering beside her.

Three years ago, she had used the same tone to threaten me. "If you don't donate your bone marrow to your sister, I'll make sure you can't even sit for your exams!"

It had been because I refused to give my bone marrow before my SATs.

On the exam day, Mom drugged me and personally took me to the operating table.

After the surgery, my body deteriorated, while my sister, Rachel Porter, cried and accused me of faking illness just to mock her.

Mom had turned to me, shouting that if I continued pretending, I could just leave.

That night, I left home empty-handed. Mom never noticed.

It wasn't until Rachel's illness relapsed that she remembered me.

Even though I had given up hope, my heart still ached involuntarily.

Seeing that no one appeared, Mom's eyes blazed with anger.

"Cassidy, are you trying to kill your sister so you can be the family's only heiress?"

Still no response from me.

Mom ordered all the valuables in the house to be removed.

"Let's see how bold you can be without any money!"

I floated beside them, watching the bodyguards rummage through my things.

Finally, one of them spotted a dust-covered emerald pendant beside the water bottle. It was the gift Mom had given me when I was born.

But she didn't recognize it. She snatched it up and raised her hand to throw it away.

I reflexively lunged, but the pendant passed through my hand and smashed heavily on the floor.

Every time my illness flared, my body trembled in pain, yet I had never sold the pendant even to buy painkillers.

Now, the emerald lay in pieces, and Mom didn't even look at it. She shouted toward the door. "Cassidy! Why aren't you coming out yet?!"

One of the bodyguards picked up the water bottle carelessly. "Madam, this looks like… baby formula."

That was my ashes.

Mom glared at the filthy bottle and snorted.

"So it's just a prop to fake poverty? Dump this disgusting thing in the toilet!"

As the bodyguard moved toward the bathroom, a desperate voice rang out from the doorway, "No!"

The maid, Tammy Ernst, dragged her legs across the floor, using her hands to crawl forward.

"That's Miss Cassidy's ashes!" she cried.

Mom froze for a moment, then looked down at Tammy in her tattered clothes.

She let out a derisive laugh. "Three years gone, Tammy… and you've really perfected the beggar act! It was Cassidy who made you do this, wasn't it? Where is she, really?"

Tammy seemed stunned into silence, unable to answer for a long time.

Mom's impatience boiled over. She shouted at Tammy, "Tell me right now! Say it, and you can come back to the Porter household, take care of Rachel, and live like you used to."

Unable to hold back, Tammy began to weep.

"Madam… Miss Cassidy is no longer here. After that bone marrow transplant three years ago, she came here, and within a month… she vomited blood and died."

"Lies!" Mom snatched the water bottle and poured my ashes into the toilet, flushing them away.

Tammy raised her hands to stop her, but she could do nothing. She collapsed in despair, wailing, "She's already dead! Why can't you even leave her ashes alone?"

Grabbing a broom, she struck her own legs with all her strength.

"That night, she kept vomiting blood. Even a few bottles of painkillers didn't help. I carried her to the hospital myself… and got hit by a car, ruining my legs. But I couldn't save her."

I crouched beside Tammy, my eyes burning with heat.

Though she was just a maid, Tammy had loved me more than Mom ever did.

Watching her breakdown, Mom's anger began to shift into confusion.

Before she could speak, Rachel was brought in, supported by someone. Her rosy cheeks and proportioned frame gave no hint of illness. She looked around, puzzled. "I just saw Cassidy and Tammy get out of the car together… Where's Cassidy?"

Tammy continued, "After Miss Cassidy died from donating her bone marrow, I didn't have money for an urn. I had to use a water bottle… Madam, how could you flush her ashes away?"

Rachel's face paled. "Tammy, don't say that. Bone marrow donation is safe… it doesn't kill people. If Cassidy hadn't wanted to donate to me, she could have just said no. There was no need to hide and have you play beggar to make me feel pity."

Tears glimmered in Rachel's eyes as she smiled at Mom.

"I know Cassidy would never donate to me again, and I understand. She already saved me once—I can't be greedy and ask her to save me a second time. I don't blame her for hiding from us. At least, after I'm gone, Cassidy will still be here to accompany Mom."

Her words faltered as tears streamed down uncontrollably.

Mom held her tightly, her voice firm yet full of promise. "Rachel, don't worry. As long as I'm here, you won't die. And as long as Cassidy is alive somewhere in this world, I'll dig through the earth to find her if I have to!"

Then Mom turned to Tammy, her tone icy.

"Cassidy… always acting, huh? At least make your lies believable. The money from the jewelry she stole back then must be almost used up. Tell her this: if she doesn't show up to donate to Rachel, I'll make sure no one in this city dares hire her!"

But three years ago, I hadn't taken a single piece of jewelry from the house. Tammy couldn't stand to see me falsely accused, so she had left with me that very night. Every time we rented a place afterward, we'd be kicked out the next day. Later, we learned Rachel had been bribing landlords.

Finally, this basement had been offered to us by a street thug—someone unafraid of the Porter family, someone who wouldn't take Rachel's money.

But less than a day after we moved in, my body burned with unbearable pain. At first, medication helped, but soon, even that failed.

During the last week of my life, I vomited blood daily; the floor was forever stained. On the final day, I vomited so much that my body went into shock.

My thoughts drifted back as I watched Mom at the doorway, calling me.

The phone responded with a mechanical tone: the number no longer existed.

Mom frowned, opening our chat. She typed: [Cassidy, you only have yourself to blame for this. From today, I won't give you a single cent for living expenses.]

But Mom… three years ago, you had already called the bank and frozen every account under my name.

Seeing the bodyguard pour a basin of cold water over Tammy, I tried to intervene. The water passed through me and struck Tammy hard.

Tammy was terrified, unable to speak.

Thinking Tammy was defiant, Mom slapped her.

"Stop pretending! Where is Cassidy?"

Tammy screamed uncontrollably, "Miss Cassidy is already dead! Dead! Stop tormenting me!"

She crawled to a corner, shivering in defeat.

Seeing Tammy trembling in fear, Mom's eyes softened slightly.

Then Rachel screamed and fainted to the floor.

Mom immediately turned and carried her to the hospital, the bodyguards following.

The next moment, a masked stranger entered, carried Tammy away and took the water bottle containing my ashes.

As soon as Rachel arrived at the hospital, she woke up. The doctors examined her and confirmed that she was unharmed.

I hovered nearby and couldn't help but snicker. Rachel's fainting act worked every time—Mom never questioned it.

The doctors urged that Rachel undergo a bone marrow transplant as soon as possible. Only then did Mom remember me and ordered someone to return to the basement to find me.

The bodyguards returned quickly. "Madam, the maid Tammy is no longer in the basement, and we couldn't locate Miss Cassidy either."

Rachel's brow furrowed. "But didn't Tammy say her legs were ruined? How could she have left so quickly?"

Mom's face darkened, teeth clenched with rage. "Of course, Tammy was faking it! Cassidy must have taught her."

Seeing Mom provoked, Rachel's lips quivered, and suddenly tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Mom… please don't blame Cassidy anymore. It's fine. I've made peace with dying… I just can't bear to leave you."

Mom tenderly ruffled her hair.

"Darling, don't worry. It's just a little leukemia. No matter what it costs, I'll find a matching donor for you."

Her gaze hardened suddenly.

"As for Cassidy… even if I have to dig three feet into the earth, I'll find her!"

Rachel rested her head against Mom's chest, eyes glinting with calculating determination.

"Thank you, Mom. But I feel for you. If a new donor is available, you won't have to exhaust yourself searching for Cassidy. Once I recover, I can take over your work. You can retire and enjoy life."

Mom paused, startled, then shook her head.

"I have to find Cassidy! As long as Cassidy admits her mistake and voluntarily donates to you, I'll hand the company and the Porter family entirely over to her management. You just focus on recovering, and live carefree as a little princess."

I hovered, stunned, staring at Mom until I was certain her gaze was sincere.

I had always thought Mom had no love for me. For my sister, she had drugged me to make me miss my SATs. For my sister, she had driven me from home, leaving me to wander the streets.

Rachel shared my shock. She paused, then said, "I really miss Cassidy too… Where is she?"

But I could clearly see the venom behind her eyes, like a dagger laced with poison.

Mom patted Rachel's back gently, preparing to comfort her, when the assistant rushed in, panicked. "There's a video call!"

On the screen, a masked figure shook the water bottle containing my ashes, glaring at Mom.

"Your daughter's last ashes are with me. Want them? One million cash, and they're yours!"

Mom glanced at the bottle and snorted. "Another actor hired by Cassidy. That's not ashes—it's milk powder. I don't care; just dump it."

The camera cut to Tammy on the floor. Her eyes were swollen and red, her wails piercing.

"Madam! Miss Cassidy died such a tragic death! Please… don't destroy her ashes!"

Mom remained silent for several seconds.

Fearing Mom might soften, Rachel covered her mouth and cried out, "Mom, you just cut off Sister's living expenses, and now, she's working with outsiders to trick your money!"

Mom, still dazed, instantly relaxed at Rachel's words.

"Cassidy… you've stooped this low. You'd rather con me with strangers than save your sister. How could I have given birth to such an ungrateful child?"

She cut the video call and threw her phone aside.

Even as a ghost, I felt the familiar ache in my chest. Mom still only trusted Rachel, just like three years ago.

Shortly after, Rachel fainted again.

The attending physician's tone was grave.

"Currently, no donor matches except Cassidy's bone marrow. Madam, please have Miss Cassidy come immediately to donate, or Rachel's next fainting spell could be life-threatening."

Hearing this, Mom gazed at Rachel's sleeping face, worry etched deep.

A new foreign doctor approached.

"I just checked. Three years ago, the hospital stored leftover bone marrow from Cassidy. With her consent, the hospital can legally use it."

He scrolled through his data, then froze, his face turning pale. "What? Cassidy died three years ago?!"