Chapter 4

I rose into the air.

As I looked down, I saw myself lying on the couch, my face pale and bluish.

I thought about Mom, Dad, Ivan, and Willow. And in the blink of an eye, I somehow ended up at the resort hotel they said they were staying at.

I remembered they'd booked the room with a balcony overlooking the beach. So I drifted over, passing right through the glass doors. Then I froze.

Mom and Dad were sitting there, looking perfectly fine. Willow was watching cartoons, while Ivan was playing with his blocks.

They were okay?

Overjoyed, I rushed over to hug them, only for my arms to go right through them. I cried out happily, "Dad! Mom!"

But they couldn't hear me. That was when I remembered that I was dead.

But how? I definitely heard a car crash over the phone.

Right then, Dad pulled out his phone and played an audio clip. The sound of tires screeching was exactly the same as what I'd heard over the phone earlier.

Dad said coldly, "See? What did I tell you? His whole 'good son' act was just an act! All it took was an audio clip to prove it."

Mom sat across from him, looking uneasy. "Let's just wait a little longer. Maybe—"

Dad angrily cut her off, "Wait for what? It's been hours since the 'accident.' Has he even bothered to call to check if we're okay after hearing a crash that serious?"

Mom sighed. "Maybe he's busy taking care of Christina and just hasn't had time to call."

She tried to defend me, but her voice grew softer with every word. It was clear even she herself wasn't sure anymore.

Dad suddenly raised his voice, bordering on a roar. "My mom? She's perfectly fine! How much care does she actually need? It's just feeding her, wiping her down, and changing a diaper! How much time could that possibly take?

"We got into a serious car accident, yet he couldn't even be bothered to check on us! I can't believe you even picked a fight with me over him yesterday.

"I'm telling you—I've seen right through him for ages. He's a lousy student, and he's not exactly likable. Now, even his little good-son act is fake!

"We spent 18 years raising him, and he's still less devoted than a dog! A dog would at least bark if something happened to its owner!"

I was struck dumb. At that point, what else was there to figure out?

So the crash I'd heard over the phone was fake. It had just been a recording. They were never in danger. They were just waiting for me to call and check on them.

This whole thing had just been Dad's test of my devotion to the family, and he'd done it to prove that it was all just an act?

Ivan, startled by Dad's yelling, burst into tears. Mom quickly went over to hold him and didn't say anything else.

Even though I was already dead, I felt ice-cold all over.

I drifted over to Dad, screaming through my tears, "That's not true! Dad, I called! I called so many times! I thought you were dead! So I…"

My hands slipped right through him, and no one could hear me.

Mom knitted her brows, saying, "Alright, that's enough. I'll call him and let him know we're okay."

The dial tone felt endlessly long.

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears streaming down my face. "Stop calling, Mom. Please stop. No one's going to answer. No one will ever pick up again. I'm already dead.

"When I thought I was the only one left in the family, I chose to die. I died because of Dad's stupid test…"

The phone rang for a long time before going to voicemail. Mom's face turned ashen, and the hand holding her phone trembled slightly.

I knew Mom's last hope for me had died with that unanswered call.

Dad lowered his voice, sounding tired. "See? I knew his care for us was totally fake. Who knows how much he resents us deep down for playing favorites and leaving him behind? And this is his way of getting back at us."

Mom stayed silent this time. She no longer tried to argue.

I fell to my knees, sobbing my heart out. But no one could see me, and no one could hear me.

Over the next few days, they carried on with the rest of their vacation. Mom and Dad seemed to have an unspoken agreement to never bring me up again.

The day before they were due to return, Mom and Dad happily took my younger siblings to pick out souvenirs.

Willow picked up some colorful seashell wind chimes. "Dad, look how pretty this is! Can we get this for Jacob?"

I looked at the pretty wind chimes, and for a second, my frozen heart felt a little warmer. But before I could even smile, Dad's face darkened.

His voice was ice-cold as he snapped, "Why would we bring him anything? That ungrateful punk doesn't deserve a thing."

I looked at Mom, the one who had promised to bring me a gift. She simply turned away and said nothing.

As I felt a dull ache in my chest, I gave a bitter smile.

"It doesn't matter. I'm dead anyway. It's not like I can use wind chimes now. I don't need it. I don't need wind chimes, and I don't need Mom and Dad's love anymore…"

Back in the hotel room, Mom and Dad started packing their bags. I floated in the corner, quietly watching them.

I wondered how they'd react when they got home and saw Grandma and me.

Would Dad be heartbroken? Would he feel remorseful?

Just then, there was a knock at the hotel room door. Two police officers stood in the hallway, their expressions grim.

"Are you Mr. Charles Brewer? We've received a report from your local police department. Two bodies have been discovered at your residence. We need you to return immediately to assist with the investigation."