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Her Neglect, My Undying Haunted Soul Novel Cover

Her Neglect, My Undying Haunted Soul

I was the biological daughter, yet my mother looked at me with disgust while worshipping my adopted sister, Carina. When I vanished for two months, my mother laughed it off as a "tantrum" designed to ruin my grandmother's jubilee. She only stopped laughing when the detective slammed a forensics report on the table. "Your daughter didn't just die, Mrs. Fowler," the officer said, his voice cold. "She was buried alive by the elements. It took her three days to suffocate in that ravine." My mother turned pale, stammering that she never got a call for help. The detective' s eyes narrowed. "Oh, she called. Five times. Someone answered the last one, listened to her scream, and then deleted the log to cover it up." The room went dead silent. Slowly, my mother' s horrified gaze turned toward Carina, the "perfect" daughter, who was trembling violently in the corner. My ghost watched from the shadows of the interrogation room as the realization finally hit her. She hadn't just neglected me; she had raised the monster who left me to die.
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Chapter 6

Eva Graham POV:

Hilda snatched her phone, her eyes narrowing. "Finally! The little brat decides to grace us with her presence!"

She answered, her voice laced with venom. "Eva, what do you want? Don't think for a second your little disappearing act is going to win you any sympathy."

A male voice, deep and unfamiliar, came through the speaker. "Is this… Hilda Fowler? Eva Graham's mother?"

Hilda' s brow furrowed. "Who is this? Why do you have Eva's phone?"

"My name is Detective Miller," the voice replied, calm and professional. "We found Miss Graham's identification and phone in a rental property registered to her. We have reason to believe she was involved in a gambling ring operating out of the premises."

Hilda' s frown lessened slightly. Gambling? Of course. Always causing trouble.

"We need you to come down to the precinct to confirm some details," Detective Miller continued. "And to collect her belongings."

Hilda snorted, a dismissive sound. She hung up, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. Then she calmly placed the phone back on the table and picked up her fork, as if nothing had happened.

Carina, who had been listening intently from the doorway, glided back into the dining room, her face etched with a look of concern. "Mom, what was that? Was that Eva? Is she alright?"

Hilda waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, it's just Eva, being Eva. Her phone went missing, apparently. Some ridiculous gambling thing, probably just a misunderstanding. She'll be fine."

She took a sip of her wine, her composure meticulously restored. "I'll go down to the precinct later, after dinner. No need to disturb our evening."

Carina' s eyes, however, held a flicker of genuine fear, quickly masked by her usual sweet facade. "Oh, Mom, you shouldn't have to deal with that. You're exhausted. Let me go. I can handle it. I'll make sure everything is sorted."

Hilda smiled, a genuine, appreciative smile. "Oh, Carina, you're such a thoughtful daughter. So unlike some others I could mention." Her gaze, for a fleeting moment, lingered on my empty seat. "Yes, darling, that would be wonderful. Just make sure they don't try to pin anything on Eva. She's got enough problems."

My ghost felt a profound disappointment, a final, crushing blow. This was it. My last chance. My final plea.

To Hilda, it was just a phone call, a minor inconvenience, another one of Eva's dramas. She had no idea. She never did. I was just a problem, a stain on her perfect life.

I watched Carina. Her fear was real, a raw, primal terror that clawed at her perfect composure. She knew. She knew what that phone call meant. She had heard my screams. She had let me die.

Hilda, in her gilded ignorance, continued to praise Carina. "You're truly a blessing, Carina. Always so responsible. So considerate. Not like Eva, always causing us grief."

Her words, even in my ethereal state, still pierced me. I remembered the endless comparisons, the constant undermining. Why couldn't I be more like Carina? Why couldn't I be enough for you?

Carina grabbed her car keys, her movements swift and jerky. She paused at the dining room entrance, her eyes darting to my empty chair. For a second, a fleeting moment, I thought she saw me, saw the truth of my spectral presence.

But it was just a trick of the light, a flicker of guilt in her eyes. A recognition of the space I no longer occupied, a space she had so eagerly helped to empty. She left, taking her lies with her, leaving my ghost abandoned in a home that was never truly mine.

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