I Froze to Death While You Argued A Child’s Ghost Tells the Truth

Mom pulled my sister into her arms.

"I'm fine, sweetie. Just saw a touching video online."

My sister nestled against her shoulder and drifted back to sleep almost instantly.

Mom held that position, not moving an inch.

I floated over to Dad's side.

He was staring at his phone, the call long ended, his face blank.

My brother patted his back, trying to comfort him. "Dad, don't let it get to you. She's not worth it."

Dad shook his head and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

He lit a cigarette and stood in the courtyard, smoking in the cold.

"I want to bring your sister back—"

He started to say something, then stopped.

"Hm?" My brother looked at him curiously.

"Nothing. Go inside. It's cold out here."

In that moment, I finally felt how unnecessary I was.

If I just... disappeared.

Would it actually make things easier for them?

Back at home, Mom got my sister settled into bed.

She picked up her phone. Her finger hovered over my name for a long time.

Finally, she pressed call.

No answer. Mom frowned.

"That girl. Fell asleep without even checking her phone."

Dawn hadn't fully broken when Mom got up.

She spent ages in the kitchen.

I caught the smell of braised pork belly—my absolute favorite. But Mom always said it was too much trouble to make, so she only cooked it once or twice a year.

She filled the thermos container to the brim.

Then she grabbed a few apples from the fridge and tucked them into a bag alongside it.

Meanwhile, Dad was waking up on his end.

He sat up with a splitting headache. After dropping my brother off, he passed a bakery.

He pulled over and went inside, came out with a bag.

I floated closer to look. Chestnut-filled buns. Old-fashioned cream bread.

All my favorites too.

Dad arrived first.

He parked outside the hospital and hurried into the lobby.

The registration desk had a long line. He squeezed his way to the payment counter.

"Excuse me—was there a little girl named Erica Fox who came in yesterday afternoon?"

"About this tall, thin, with her mother?"

Nurse Hannah Reed checked the computer. "No record of that."

"No record? That's impossible. She had a fever over 102..."

"Sir, there really isn't anyone by that name."

"Maybe try the emergency department?"

Dad rushed to the ER.

Same question. Same answer.

Just then, Mom walked in carrying the thermos.

She spotted Dad immediately and hurried over.

"Where's our baby girl? Is she feeling better?"

"I told you to spend more time with her lately. Have you been too busy sucking up to your new wife?"

"What kind of thing is that to say? What do you mean, 'sucking up'?"

"I should be asking you! Where is she?"

Dad's voice was strained with panic. "I just asked the staff—they said you never even came to the hospital!"

"How is that possible? Didn't you bring her?"

Mom stared at him, her face draining of color.

"Me? I thought you brought her!"

When they realized neither of them had been with me all day, the panic finally set in.

Mom wanted to find a nurse and get answers.

Dad stopped her. "What's the point? I already asked."

"They said there's no registration. No record at all!"

Mom's face went white as paper.

She refused to believe it. She rushed to the nurses' station, her voice shaking.

"Please—check again. My daughter, Erica Fox. She might have come in yesterday morning."

"She had a fever. She was alone..."

The nurse checked again. Shook her head.

The thermos slipped from Mom's hands and hit the floor with a heavy thud.

The lid popped off. Braised pork scattered across the tiles.

Dad gripped the bag so tightly his knuckles went white, fear slowly creeping into his eyes.

He couldn't bear to imagine it—me, burning with fever in the dead of winter.

If I wasn't at the hospital, where else could I be?

Then it hit them. The bungalow.

Without a word, they rushed out.

The door swung open, and Mom called out, her voice raw and cracking: "Sweetie, are you home?"

Dad didn't hesitate. He charged into the bedroom, straight to the bed.

When he saw I wasn't there, his whole body went rigid.

"Where is she? Where's my daughter? You—give me back my daughter!!"

Mom grabbed his collar, screaming.

When he didn't answer, she crumpled into a chair, sobbing uncontrollably.

That's when Dad's phone rang.

He pulled it out mechanically, glanced at the screen—and his pupils contracted.

Mom leaned in. Her breath stopped.

A familiar number glowed on the display.

My smartwatch.

They exchanged a look, relief and hope flooding their faces. They thought it was me calling.

Mom urged him to answer, quickly.

The moment he picked up, a stranger's voice came through—calm, official.

"Is this the family of Erica Fox?"

"This is the Police Precinct. We need you to come in for questioning."