Favored the Adopted, Lost the Real: A Mother's Remorse

The last time I went missing was a few years ago.

Back then, Winona had trapped me in an abandoned sports storeroom at school. It was in a remote area, so hardly anyone went there.

I screamed for help as loudly as I could, but all that answered was the echo of my own voice and the heavy silence. I remained there all night, only seeing daylight again the next morning when the school security guard found me.

When I returned home, Mom and Winona were enjoying breakfast at the dining table.

Taking in my disheveled, dust-covered appearance, Mom exploded. She snatched up a broom and began hitting me relentlessly.

No matter how much I tried to explain, not a word got through. She just kept beating me.

At the time, Grandma was still alive. I escaped to her house and tearfully recounted what had happened.

Utterly incensed, Grandma rushed back to the Langdon residence with me, determined to seek justice.

However, when confronted, all Mom said was, "Winnie didn't do it on purpose."

That sent Grandma into a rage. After she berated Mom harshly, Mom finally made Winona apologize to me.

Mr. Lintell's sigh dragged me back to the present. He didn't press the matter further, simply finished his cigarette and stubbed it out.

…

That afternoon, there was a new lead. The police had found the first crime scene—a dilapidated, unfinished building.

This news stirred the investigative team. They immediately prepared to process the scene.

As a forensic doctor, Mom was naturally an indispensable part of the team. Expression stern and focused, she changed into her gear and rushed toward the abandoned building with the others.

The instant they stepped out of their cars, a revolting stench assaulted them. It was so sharp and foul that many felt the urge to vomit.

I watched as Mom and the rest frowned, steeled themselves, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

The interior was dim, and the nauseating smell was even thicker here. Stains mottled the walls, while trash and debris littered the ground. Most jarring, however, was the blood splattered everywhere.

Despite being a spirit with no physical body, I still found myself shaking at the ghastly sight.

The day I was kidnapped by my murderer, the skies had been dark and foreboding.

I had received a call from Winona. Her voice sounded exceptionally sincere as she told me that she had finally realized the error of her ways. To express her regret for all she had done over the years, she wanted to visit Grandma's grave and pay her respects.

At the time, I hadn't suspected a thing, thinking people could always turn over a new leaf. So, I agreed to meet her.

Upon arriving at the address she sent me, I saw that it was an abandoned factory in a remote part of the city. It was completely deserted, not a single soul in sight. All I could hear was the wind whistling.

I had barely stepped inside when a powerful force struck me from behind, knocking me unconscious.

As I slowly came to, I vaguely heard Winona talking with a man.

Her voice was firm, laced with a hint of smug delight. "Since I've tricked her here for you, you can get your revenge now. Don't bother me again after this."

The man frowned, seemingly displeased with her attitude. "Watch your mouth. If anything happens, don't blame me for what I'll do to you."

Winona waved a dismissive hand. "Relax. I want her dead even more than you do."