After all, I was the one with an absent father, a deceased mother, a stepmother who despised me, and a stepsister who constantly tormented me.
But in the end, it was Emma who died first.
That day, she planned another one of her nasty tricks. She sent me a message to meet her at the equipment storage room, intending to lock me in there for the entire night.
How did I know? I overheard her scheming with her friends on a phone call.
So that night, I didn’t go to the equipment room.
Emma went there alone. Her heart condition suddenly flared up, and without anyone to help her in time, she died.
My stepmother later told Jim that it was me who had lured Emma to the equipment room.
And that was the beginning of his hatred toward me.
He never believed me, no matter how much I tried to explain myself.
Driven by the memory of his deceased “perfect girl,” and because I happened to resemble her, he sought me out.
He wanted me to be her replacement.
If it had been any other time, I would have outright refused such an absurd arrangement.
But life played a cruel joke on me.
I was terrified that if I didn’t agree, I might be the next to die.