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My Stepsister Claimed She Was Psychic and Stole My Work Novel Cover

My Stepsister Claimed She Was Psychic and Stole My Work

After calculating a drowning victim's location, a skilled hydrologist is publicly framed by her stepsister, who claims psychic powers and accuses her of extortion. Instantly ruined, she is fired, beaten by the victim's family, abandoned by her boyfriend, and disowned by her father. Driven to despair when her mother's ashes are desecrated, she is eventually drowned by strangers. Yet, she suddenly opens her eyes, back on the riverbank before her downfall began.
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Chapter 2

Even the members of the corpse retrieval team began whispering among themselves.

"Even for an expert, charging thirty thousand dollars is a bit much, don’t you think? Leizl is getting greedy.”

"Making money off the dead... how does she even sleep at night?”

"If it weren’t for her skills, no one would hire her at all.”

The team captain frowned slightly and said to me, “Miss Leizl, we agreed on the price beforehand. Asking for more now doesn’t seem right.”

I replied coldly, “Did I say I was raising the price?”

The captain was stunned.

At that moment, the elderly woman was already on her knees again, clutching my clothes desperately. “Expert, I’m willing to sell my house. Just name your price. Even if I have to borrow the money, I’ll get it to you.”

It was as if she feared I would walk away if she couldn’t pay enough.

I took a deep breath and gently helped her up. “I will help you,” I said softly, “but I need you to agree to one condition.”

Immediately, Darius chimed in beside me, “Leizl, they’ve just lost a loved one. Isn’t that tragic enough? Don’t make outrageous demands right now.”

I shot him a cold glance. “Shut up.”

Darius froze, staring at me in disbelief.

“What’s wrong with you today, Leizl?” he asked, clearly shaken. “Why are you talking to me like this?”

I ignored him and pulled the old woman aside to speak with her privately.

A few minutes later, she gave me a conflicted but determined nod.

I left her and walked toward the river, gazing at the churning waters, lost in thought.

In my previous life, just as I had finished calculating the results, my stepsister rushed in, claiming she could speak to the dead. She said the victim’s soul had guided her to the location of the body.

It was nonsense—every word of it. I didn’t believe a single thing.

But what stood out was that when she described the location, she used several technical hydrology terms—terms I used frequently.

My stepsister had no background in hydrology. So where had she learned those terms?

That’s when it hit me.

She must have stolen my conclusion.

But how?

I knew the answer would be key. If I couldn’t figure out how she did it, she would ruin me again in this life—just like last time.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of something—and the realization struck me like lightning.

Whenever I analyzed water flow patterns, I entered all my data into my laptop. With its help, I could accurately calculate the likely location of the body.

That laptop was always with me—sometimes at work, sometimes at home.

If my stepsister had installed spyware while I had the laptop at home, she could’ve easily monitored everything I did in real time.

The moment I finished my calculations, she could have dashed in and announced them first, pretending they were hers.

Realizing this, I immediately shut down the laptop, picked up a pen and paper, and began calculating manually.

Darius, watching from the side, looked annoyed. “Leizl, everyone is waiting for you. Why are you doing this by hand? You’re just wasting time.”

I glanced at him and asked sharply, “Darius, are you trying to disrupt my work on purpose?”

He looked genuinely hurt. “Why are you being so harsh to me today?”

I didn’t answer, and continued with my calculations.

After all, a computer was just a tool—so was pen and paper.

For a true hydrology expert, what a computer could calculate, I could derive by hand.

Half an hour later, I had precisely located where the body should be.

I let out a sigh of relief, raised the sheet of paper, and began walking toward the victim’s family.

But before I could speak, a panting voice shouted from the distance, "The victim is located three kilometers downstream. He's tangled in aquatic plants and drifting at approximately two meters per second!”

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