"...I think I'll just go die now," she deadpanned.
"No, don't!" I shouted, panicking. "If you die broke, you'll have to work 24/7 in the underworld with no breaks! It's worse than a 996 job!"
"The King of Hell said if I can't repay that hundred million, he's going to throw me into a cauldron of oil and fry me into a crispy, golden cheese-coated ghost ball!"
Amelia blinked. "...That actually sounds kind of delicious."
I threw myself on the floor and started wailing.
"Waaah, sis! You're the real daughter of the Wright family now, Mrs. Fletcher—wife of the capital's golden boy! Don't tell me you can't even afford a measly hundred million? What happened to 'don't forget me when you're rich and powerful,' huh?"
At the mention of her family, Amelia's expression faltered. She was silent for a long while before whispering, "But Sherry... I don't have any money."
"What about your shares in the Wright Corporation?"
"They're all in Fake Miss Wright's hands now—Janine took them."
I gave her a look of utter disappointment. "Then go and take back what's yours!"
"But..."