Three Years After My Death, My Whole Family Wanted To Slap Me in The Face in a Live Stream
Chapter 3
“It’s her own narrow-mindedness that makes her unable to accept others. How could that possibly be your fault?”
“If she hadn’t been scheming to drive you out three years ago, Dad would’ve never almost been poisoned.”
“We forced her to leave to keep her from making a mistake she’d never come back from. It had nothing to do with you!”
As he spoke, my brother slammed his cup down hard on the table.
“I never thought she’d resort to such despicable tricks. She doesn’t deserve to be part of this family at all!”
Mom quickly chimed in, “That’s right. We will never take her back!”
Dad snorted coldly. “Reconnect the stream. Everyone must see her for who she truly is!”
Five minutes later, the livestream resumed.
Jack climbed out of the bottom of the well and forced a laugh.
[Positive vibes, folks! Looks like it was just a signal issue and a dead flashlight earlier. Nothing spooky!]
[Oh, so he just freaked himself out! Is he really going to keep exploring the house though?]
Jack insisted that since he was already there, he had to thoroughly check every corner.
He walked to the door on the first floor and slowly pushed it open.
A gust of icy wind swept through, stirring the dust and making the broken windows rattle with eerie clinks. The room was a wreck. On the table, empty wine bottles lay scattered.
[Whoa, has she really been living here all this time? And drinking like that?]
Jack’s flashlight moved across the floor—there, several used condom wrappers.
[No way. So she really was hooking up with a bunch of guys here?!]
“These… were indeed hers. The police confirmed it during the initial investigation,” my brother said grimly.
The comment section immediately blew up with insults.
[At first, we kept it quiet for the sake of her dignity,] he continued. [We asked the police not to release anything.]
[But we never imagined she’d vanish for three years, only to come back using dark arts to torment our entire family—and even curse Jesica. We’re not letting it go this time!”
[Yeah! A backstabbing witch like that doesn’t deserve a family! Anchor, find all the evidence and expose her!]
Just as their fury peaked, a chilling sound echoed from the second floor—fingernails, dragging slowly across something hard.
[What the hell? Did you hear that? I’m out—I’m seriously scared now…]
“We have to trust science, people!” Jack said, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m guessing it’s just someone messing around. I’ll go check.”
Forcing his legs to stop trembling, he raised the gossip mirror and slowly climbed the stairs.
It turned out to be the wind rustling the treetops, the branches scraping against the window glass.
The tension eased in the chat as everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.
Then suddenly—two glowing eyes appeared in the dark.
[AHH!! THERE’S A GHOST! I SWEAR I SAW IT!]
Jack stumbled back, his flashlight flickering as he focused on the source.
“It’s… it’s a rabbit doll.”
He crouched down and picked it up. As he turned it over in his hands, the doll unexpectedly began to speak.
“Today, I was finally found by my family at the orphanage. Mom cried and said she was sorry—sorry I was switched with someone else at the hospital. Dad told me he’d never let me suffer again. My brother even gave me this little talking bunny. I’m so happy. I finally have a family.”
The voice startled Jack. He blinked, then turned to the camera.
“This… this is Anna’s voice, isn’t it?”
My brother nodded solemnly. “It was a gift I gave her. Looks like it really did have a recording function.”
The chat exploded.
[That voice! She must’ve been five or six when she recorded that—it sounds so innocent!]
Jack hushed the viewers and gently patted the doll, prompting it to continue.
“There’s also a sister at home who looks just like a princess. When Mom saw her crying, she hugged her and comforted her non-stop. Dad and my brother told me her name is Jesica. She’s part of our family too. They said thanks to her, Mom hasn’t been so sad all these years. I get it now. I’ll love my sister too…”
Hearing that, Jesica broke down in tears.
“But… my sister… she doesn’t love me at all. She hates me…” she whispered.
My brother gently placed a hand on her shoulder, silently urging Jack to keep playing the rest.
“Today, the housekeeper’s child called me a bumpkin… But my brother—he beat him up really bad.”
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