After My Mother Died, I Went Mad

I gathered my courage and said, “Could you buy part of my shares to set up a charity foundation?”

Dad looked a little puzzled.

I explained seriously, “I want to use it to help people in disaster-stricken areas. First, as a way to pray for and honor Aunt Olivia, and second, to establish a good corporate image.”

“It would be best to livestream the event—it would help our company’s reputation.”

Dad hesitated. “This…”

George Anderson glared at him. “What? You can’t even spare that much money?”

Dad forced a smile. “George, how could you think that of me?”

George glanced at me and, a bit awkwardly, instructed, “Three days from now, gather the media and the company board. We’ll handle the share transfer and the charity foundation at the same time—there should be an explanation for everyone!”

I quickly added, “Dad, Aunt Olivia’s adopted child should also be there.”

Dad seemed suspicious. I sighed softly. “After all, Aunt Olivia died saving Mom. We need to show that child some consideration too.”

Dad finally agreed.

As I was leaving, George Anderson called to me in private. “Sophie!”

I stopped.

His stern demeanor softened into concern. “Sophie, you’re a decisive child—you wouldn’t make such a reckless decision without a reason. What’s really going on?”

“I’ve known your grandfather for decades and already see you as my own granddaughter. I would never harm you. Tell me the truth.”

I lowered my gaze, trying hard to hide my reddened eyes.

George was indeed someone I could trust, but I couldn’t put him in danger.

In my previous life, after I was killed by the kidnappers, he was the first to question the truth of my death.

But he was quickly silenced—arrested on fabricated charges of embezzlement.

Before being taken away, he shouted, “This is slander!”

Two days later, he died of a sudden heart attack in the detention center.

From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Dad’s bodyguard watching us, so I quickly pushed down the sting in my eyes and replied awkwardly, “George, nothing’s wrong. I just want to take a break.”

He sighed and didn’t press further.

Late at night, the wind and rain howled outside.

Carrying the weight of my thoughts, I padded barefoot down the hall, turning the lock quietly under the cover of thunder.

The villa was silent.

I’d heard that just yesterday, Dad had fired several longtime servants who had worked for Mom, accusing them of misconduct, planning to replace them with new ones.

I figured he was worried Aunt Olivia might slip up.

Even though she and Mom were twins and looked very much alike, their habits were completely different—making it easy for those who knew Mom well to notice something was off.

As I reached the master bedroom door, I heard a strange sound.

The door was ajar.

Through the crack, I could see clearly inside.

Dad was holding Aunt Olivia in his arms, lying on the bed that used to belong to him and Mom.

Their wedding photo still hung on the wall—Mom in her wedding dress, calmly gazing at them—while Dad and Aunt Olivia were shamelessly intimate.

A flash of lightning lit up their laughing faces.

My hands and feet went cold, bile rising in my throat.

I wanted to throw up.

Years ago, Dad would hold Mom as they sat in the living room, admiring the flowers in the garden.

Before long, Mom would shift uncomfortably, giving him an exasperated glare. “The child is grown—you still can’t behave yourself!”

Dad would grin mischievously. “That just means I’m in good health.”

Mom’s cheeks would flush pink. “You’re impossible!”