My Stepsister Claimed She Was Psychic and Stole My Work

I was a highly paid hydrology expert, recruited by the corpse retrieval team for my specialized skills.

After staying up for an entire day and night without rest, I finally calculated the likely location of the drowning victim. But just as I was about to announce my findings, my stepsister rushed over and loudly declared the same conclusion before I could speak.

Everyone around us was stunned.

Then, to everyone’s shock, she suddenly dropped to her knees in front of me and burst into tears.

“Sis,” she sobbed, “you wouldn't let me use my spiritual abilities to help find the body. But I just couldn’t stand to see you extorting the victim's family, dragging things out on purpose just to get more money.”

“I swear I’ll never do it again. Please, don’t hit me this time, okay?”

Gasps erupted from the crowd. Right then and there, the retrieval team dismissed me on the spot.

The victim’s family, furious and heartbroken, swarmed me and took turns beating me in a rage.

Bruised and bloodied, I turned to my boyfriend for help—but instead, he coldly said I was heartless and unworthy of being human. He broke up with me in front of everyone.

I barely managed to escape home, only to find the doors locked. My father had issued a public statement disowning me.

Online, I was vilified. The hate was endless. Some radical netizens even went so far as to dig up my mother’s grave and throw her urn into the river.

[If Leizl is such an expert in water,” one of them mocked, “she can go fish out her mother’s ashes herself.]

I searched the riverbanks in despair, day after day, trying to find her remains.

Until one day, a group of strangers knocked me unconscious and threw me into the river, where I drowned.

When I opened my eyes again—I was back.

Back to that very day on the riverbank, before everything went wrong.

——

“Thank goodness you’re here, Miss Leizl.”

A familiar voice sounded right behind me.

“With your help, we’ll definitely find the body this time.”

Snapping out of my daze, I suddenly realized—I had been reborn.

The captain was still introducing me enthusiastically to everyone nearby. “This is Leizl Edwards, our hydrology expert. Whenever we’ve had a tough case or couldn’t locate a victim, she’s the one who helped us pull through.”

The team members all looked at me with hope in their eyes.

Then the captain turned to the victim’s family. “We paid thirty thousand dollars to bring in this expert. This time, we’re confident we’ll find your son.”

Among the grieving family was an elderly woman with snowwhite hair—the victim’s mother.

She collapsed to her knees and wept bitterly. “Expert, please, I’m begging you. Help me find my son.”

“He had such a hard life... even now, in death, he deserves to be buried in peace.”

“You don’t know... these past few nights, I’ve dreamed of him soaked in water, crying to me, saying how cold it is down there...”

“It’s been seven days. We still haven’t found his body. If you can bring my boy back to me, I’ll kneel and thank you forever.”

I quickly helped the old woman up, a storm of emotions brewing in my chest.

In my past life, she had also knelt to plead with me like this.

But when my stepsister falsely accused me of extorting the family, she had been the first to lead the charge—bringing her whole family to beat me senseless.

I could still feel the bruises, all the pain. It all felt like it had just happened yesterday.

As I stood there in silence, my boyfriend, Darius, walked over and said in a low voice, “Leizl, is it not enough money? Thirty thousand dollars should be fine—don’t push it.”

His words sent a chill through me.

In my previous life, I had trusted Darius completely. I never imagined he would betray me.

But during the online witch hunt, he had only fueled the flames. When my mother’s ashes were desecrated, he even said I deserved it.

After experiencing the pain and horror of that life, I was no longer blinded by socalled love. I instantly realized something was wrong with his tone.

He was already starting to plant seeds of doubt—quietly implying to everyone that I was greedy and heartless.

Sure enough, I saw the looks from those around me begin to shift. Suspicion and disapproval gleamed in their eyes.

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!”

I was stunned.

It was my stepsister—Lesley.

Just like in my previous life, she confidently announced the very same conclusion I had just finished calculating.

Facing the astonished crowd, she declared, “I can communicate with the dead. I heard the victim’s spirit calling to me earlier. Hurry—go now!”

Then she turned to me and dramatically fell to her knees, sobbing.

“Sis, I just couldn’t stand by and watch you delay things on purpose—extorting money from the victim’s family.”

“I swear, I’ll never sabotage your work again. Please don’t hit me this time, okay?”

I clutched the piece of paper in my hand, frozen in shock and disbelief.

Why?

Why was she still able to steal my results?

The crowd was already in an uproar.

Some bystanders even picked up clumps of mud and threw them at me.

“Tch. What expert?! Feeding off the dead like a leech—how disgusting!”

“What agency does she work for? I’m going to report her!”

Just then, Darius stepped in front of me, trying to calm the furious mob.

“Everyone, please. Let’s not jump to conclusions. What Lesley said might not be true. I believe Leizl is innocent.”

But before he could finish, the voice of a team member crackled through the walkietalkie—excited and breathless.

“Captain! We found him! Exactly three kilometers downstream—just like the girl who said she could talk to spirits described!”

That sealed it.

To the onlookers, this was undeniable proof: Lesley could communicate with the dead.

Cheers erupted around her as she was lifted to the center of the crowd like a hero.

The captain, eyes brimming with tears, bowed repeatedly to her. “Thank you, thank you!”

The elderly woman even dropped to her knees and knocked her head against the ground in gratitude.

Only Darius turned to face me, disappointment darkening his expression.

“Leizl... were you really trying to extort money from a grieving family?”

Before I could even deny it, he continued sharply, “I get it now. No wonder you didn’t use your laptop and insisted on calculating by hand.”

“You were trying to stall for time—drag things out just long enough for the family to get desperate and agree to your price hike. Weren’t you?”

His words were like fuel to a wildfire.

The crowd, now fully convinced, clenched their fists in rage.

To them, if Lesley’s powers were real, then my crime must also be real.

They surged forward, pushing Darius aside with ease and surrounding me completely.

They wanted to beat the “soulless expert” who dared to profit off death—to release their fury on me.

The retrieval team did nothing to stop them.

The captain even shook his head at me with disgust. “Miss Leizl, I never thought you’d be this kind of person. I really misjudged you. Tch!”

Just as the first hand was raised to strike me, a police siren wailed in the distance.

The police had arrived.

Luckily, I had quietly called them the moment Lesley appeared. I knew how things would spiral.

Thank heavens they came in time—before the crowd could lay a hand on me.

I fled into the police car, disheveled and humiliated.

The crowd backed off slightly, restrained by the presence of law enforcement.

But then, just as I thought it was over, Darius pointed at me and shouted for everyone to hear.

“Leizl, I can’t believe you’d do something like this—deliberately delaying the rescue just to extort money!”

“Are you even human? You’re not worthy of being my girlfriend. I’m breaking up with you.”

“If you have any conscience left, you’ll get out of that car right now and apologize to the victim’s family!”

“If you just walk away like this, I won’t forgive you!”

His voice reignited the crowd’s fury.

They surrounded the police vehicle again, pounding on the windows, shouting for me to get out and kneel—to beg forgiveness from the grieving family.

Even the officers who rescued me, though they followed protocol and kept me safe, couldn’t hide the scorn in their eyes.

I stayed in the car, expression blank, heart cold.

I said nothing.

I only asked the police to get me out of there—as far away as possible.

After leaving the scene, I didn’t go home, nor did I return to work. Instead, I checked into the nearest hotel.

By then, the incident had completely blown up online.

Lesley was being hailed as a psychic with divine gifts—a beautiful, kindhearted angel.

Praises flooded on every platform. Even several international brands had reached out, offering her ambassador deals.

As for me—I was being torn to shreds.

My father had already posted a public statement across every social media platform, formally disowning me.

Just like last time.

And then—the moment that truly crushed me came.

A group of internet users had found my mother’s gravesite.

They were now openly discussing their plans to dig up her ashes.

I couldn’t wait any longer.

I logged into my social media account and uploaded an audio recording I’d been holding onto.

Thankfully, in this life, I had prepared some evidence.

The recording was of my private conversation with the elderly woman by the river.

The condition I’d asked of her was for her to take back the thirty thousand dollars in fees.

I offered to help locate the body for free, making it clear that I couldn’t guarantee success.

With that, the accusation that I had extorted money in exchange for retrieving a corpse—collapsed entirely.

I thought, with the truth out, the public would finally calm down.

But I underestimated them.

Instead of justice, a new wave of mockery and hatred erupted.

“This recording is fake for sure. You expect us to believe a moneygrubbing fraud like her would work for free?”

“Who knows when that audio was recorded? For all we know, Leizl staged the whole thing—found some random old lady to play aalong with.”

Even some of the corpse retrieval team members started livestreaming, fueling the flames.

One said bluntly, “Leizl always took payment. Suddenly doing it for free? I don’t buy it. Sounds shady as hell.”

The situation spiraled completely out of control.

That night, risking everything, I snuck to the cemetery and retrieved my mother’s ashes with my own hands.

By dawn, I sent an email to my workplace requesting a long leave of absence.

Then I headed south—back to my mother’s hometown—carrying her urn close to my chest.

My mother was from the south, raised in a scholarly family.

For love, she had left everything behind and followed my father to the north.

After her passing, my grandmother wanted to bring her home to be buried. But my mother left a will: she wanted to be buried in the city where my father lived.

Even in death, she wished to stay close to him.

But less than a month after her funeral, my father married Ophelia, who was already pregnant.

Soon after, Lesley was born.

If I count the days—Ophelia must have already been carrying that child while my mother was lying in a hospital bed, fighting for her life.

The night my mother died, she had refused to close her eyes, waiting for one last glimpse of my father.

But he never came.

He must’ve been with Ophelia that night.

Now that I’m grown up—and cast out by the very man she loved—I’ve decided to bring her home.

If my mother’s spirit was watching me now, I know she would understand. She would support me.

On the road back, I posted a statement online.

[From this day forward, I am officially withdrawing from the corpse retrieval team. I will no longer participate in any body recovery operations.]

Let Lesley keep copying me. Now that I’ve stepped away, let’s see what she’s really capable of.

If she truly has psychic powers, she’ll be fine. If not—she’ll be exposed, sooner or later.

Unsurprisingly, my announcement became trending news—and once again, I was targeted by relentless hate.

[Quit the team? What a joke. She was already fired!]

[How thick can someone’s skin get?]

[Anyone want to crowdfund a good slap across Leizl’s face?]

I only glanced at the comments before shutting it all off.

Because I finally arrived.

I had stepped onto my mother’s homeland—and standing there, waiting to greet me—was my grandmother.

The moment my grandmother saw me, she pulled me into a tight hug, her eyes red from crying.

Clutching my mother’s ashes, I followed her to the family cemetery, where we laid my mother to rest in her hometown soil.

On the way back, my grandmother noticed the sadness clouding my face. Worried, she gently asked if something had happened.

After a moment of hesitation, I told her everything.

I didn’t hide a single detail.

When I finished, my grandmother let out a cold laugh.

“Communicating with the dead? And people actually believe that nonsense?”

She patted my hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’ll get to the bottom of this for you.”

My grandmother had been a teacher all her life, and her former students now held high positions across various industries. She was deeply respected.

After she shared my story, many of her students were furious on my behalf. They promised to use every resource at their disposal to uncover the truth.

Over the next few months, I stayed at my grandmother’s old countryside home.

I rose with the sun and rested at dusk.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I could breathe freely.

I had peace.

Many of my grandmother’s former students came to visit often. They treated me like a cherished niece, doting on me like a princess.

One of them, in particular—a handsome, successful young man named Hector—stood out. He was only a few years older than me, yet one day he blushed and slipped a handwritten love letter into my hand.

Stunned, I stared at the letter.

Such an oldschool confession. I couldn’t help but laugh, amused and touched at the same time.

Just when I thought I had finally left the corpse retrieval team behind, I got an unexpected phone call.

It was Darius.

“Leizl,” he said curtly, “come back immediately. We need you to locate a victim’s body.”

I frowned. “Is that an order?”

He replied flatly, “If you show up within 24 hours, I might consider getting back together with you.”

I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.

“Are you insane?” I said, then hung up—and blocked his number.

But just minutes later, another call came in.

It was my father this time.

His voice was even harsher. “Leizl Edwards, you’d better come back right now.”

I responded coldly, “You’re mistaken, Mr. Edwards. I’ve taken my mother’s surname. I’m Leizl Sanchez now.”

Then I hung up on him, too—and blocked him just the same.

Still, those two calls stirred something in me.

Why now?

They hadn’t contacted me for over a month. Why the sudden urgency?

I couldn’t shake the curiosity, so I did a quick online search.

What I found shocked me.

Even after disappearing for so long, I was still being dragged through the mud online.

Logic said the internet should’ve moved on to its next scandal by now. So why were people still wasting time attacking me?

And then I saw the reason.

Lesley.

Her fame hadn’t faded. On the contrary, she had only grown more popular.

She was now the face of numerous international brands, attending elite forums and galas, fully embraced by high society.

Every move she made was broadcast online, followed by adoring fans and endless praise.

But with every compliment she received, the public would inevitably bring me up—just to hurl more insults my way.

As for my father’s company, it was thriving thanks to her popularity and was now on the verge of going public.

The corpse retrieval team, however, wasn’t so lucky.

They had encountered several cases involving complex hydrological conditions and had repeatedly reached out to Lesley for help.

But she always had an excuse—too busy, prior engagements—and declined every time.

With no expert to guide them, they were forced to resort to cruder methods.

They began using iron hooks to drag along the riverbed—like plowing a field—hoping to snag the bodies.

By the time the corpses were retrieved, they were often beyond recognition, torn and mutilated by the hooks.

Grieving families would collapse in tears at the sight. The team’s reputation took a severe hit.

Some team members, wracked with guilt over the condition of the remains, began to suffer from depression.

Several were already showing signs of mental strain.

Not long ago, another boy went missing in the river.

It had already been ten days.

His family publicly stated that they didn’t care how much it cost—they only wanted his body recovered intact.

They would absolutely not allow the use of iron hooks.

The corpse retrieval team had been searching around the clock, but the body remained lost.

As the situation grew more urgent, public pressure mounted.

Online, people began calling for Lesley to step in again.

Some even showed up at her events, asking when she’d use her “spiritual powers” to help find the boy.

Lesley could no longer refuse.

The internet was starting to question her socalled psychic abilities.

No wonder Darius and my father had suddenly become desperate for me to return.

They knew perfectly well—without me, Lesley had no way to locate the body.

And that realization chilled me to the bone.

So they knew the truth all along.

These two men—once the most important in my life—had both betrayed me.

Just then, a push notification lit up my phone.

Lesley had gone live.

I opened the stream.

Onscreen, she was crying, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m not refusing to help. It’s not that I don’t want to find the boy’s body...” she choked out. “It’s just... because of my sister, Leizl.”

Her words sent a rush of blood to my head—I nearly cursed out loud.

The comment section exploded.

[That vile woman threatened you again, didn’t she?]

[Leizl should rot in hell.]

[Someone run her over already and rid the world of this plague.]

Then, Lesley wiped her tears and added tearfully, “You’ve all misunderstood my sister. She hasn’t threatened me this time.”

“She’s actually been begging me to help her return to the corpse retrieval team. She’s asked me so many times...”

“I’m here today to ask the public—please, give my sister a second chance. Let her come back.”

“If she’s willing to return to the field, then I promise—I’ll go too.”

The comments came flooding in.

[Lesley is truly beautiful inside and out.]

[She’s already so successful, yet still wants to help her sister. What a saint.

[Leizl’s got such a dark history. I just hope she doesn’t drag Lesley down with her.]

Others chimed in more aggressively.

[At the very least, shouldn’t Leizl post an apology by now?]

[Yeah, Lesley is already pleading on her behalf, and she’s still playing dead? Shameless!]

[What now, is she waiting for us to beg her again? Can’t get enough of playing the victim, huh?]

Then, on the livestream, Lesley picked up her phone.

“I’ll call my sister now and tell her the good news,” she smiled sweetly.

A second later, my phone rang.

I didn’t answer.

And just as I expected, the backlash was immediate.

I watched the flood of insults and slurs scroll by.

I could only laugh bitterly.

You were the ones who banished me. And now you’re the ones forcing me back.

Lesley, what a masterclass in manipulation.

Right then, another message came in—it was from Hector.

[Leizl, I’ve uncovered the truth about that incident. See the attachment.]

I quickly opened it and skimmed the contents—and everything became clear.

Before I could react further, my phone rang again.

It was Lesley.

This time, I answered.

Her voice lit up with excitement. “Sis, everyone online is hoping you’ll return to the team. Would you be willing?”

I smiled. “Of course.”

Lesley, I know your secret now.

Two lifetimes of betrayal, I won’t let you walk away unscathed.