"I Died on My Wedding Night. My Enemy’s Hair Turned White." Chapter 28

Someone Finally Struck Back

Pearl linked arms affectionately with Vivian and left the hospital room.

My ghost was forced to follow her.

Now I understood.

My spirit could follow the pieces of my body.

Julian had my heart. That was why I couldn’t leave him at first.

Now Pearl had my skin and my eyes.

I could leave Julian and follow her instead.

That also explained the two times I had suddenly been pulled somewhere else.

Something had been happening to my remains.

But who was the blind old monk who helped me?

The harder I tried to remember, the less I could recall.

Eventually, I gave up.

What I wanted to know most was who would buy that blood-red bracelet made from my twenty-four ribs.

When we got home, Pearl immediately posted the medical records Vivian had prepared.

“To everyone who has loved and supported my work, I’m so sorry. Unfortunately, the injury to my hands is severe. I can no longer continue painting.”

She attached a photograph of herself standing in a studio, eyes full of tears.

Within twenty minutes, “Heartbroken for Pearl” shot up the trending list.

The posts were overflowing with sympathy.

“A beautiful, wealthy heiress loses the ability to paint, and she’s apologizing to ordinary nobodies like us? I’m actually crying.”

“I’m shallow, and I’m saying it. Her painting career may be over, but I’m staying for that face.”

“New information: she graduated from Cambridge. Why does one person get to be this perfect? Whoever designed the rest of us needs to explain.”

“No wonder Stella’s disappeared. The real daughter came home. A gifted painter, a Cambridge graduate, and gorgeous? I’d hide too.”

“I’m going to get attacked for this, but Stella’s prettier. And she’s very capable.”

“Please raise your standards. Stella looks like a cheap seductress. No class at all.”

“And she’s adopted. Was she supposed to live off that family without making herself useful?”

The few comments defending me were quickly drowned out.

The ones insulting me attracted thousands of replies.

Pearl scrolled, growing more pleased with every word.

Then the page went black.

She assumed the browser had frozen. She closed it and signed in again.

Her account had been hacked.

And the topic that had just held the number-one spot was gone too.

Not a trace remained.

She checked several times in disbelief.

Then she screamed.

“Who is it? Who’s doing this to me?”

Vivian and Julian came running.

After hearing what happened, Julian immediately called someone to investigate.

“Don’t worry,” he told Pearl. “The company has a team of first-rate computer specialists. They’ll find out.”

Ten minutes later, his phone rang.

“Well? Have you identified whoever’s targeting my sister?”

The person on the other end sounded helpless.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Whitmore. Whoever breached her account is extremely good. We tried tracing them. More than a dozen of our computers were compromised at the same time.”

I had been stretched out on the nearby windowsill, enjoying the show.

Now I sat up.

I had personally interviewed the company’s technical staff.

Every one of them was a first-rate hacker in their own right.

More than a dozen of them couldn’t handle one opponent?

Where had someone that skilled come from?

And apparently they had a sense of justice.

They had gone straight for Pearl.

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