Chapter 2

A flicker of secret pleasure crossed Randy’s lips. He feigned alarm and said, “When did Steven come back? Do you think he heard us?”

Joan dressed hastily and walked toward the nursery.

I followed them and watched with cold detachment as she hesitated to open the door.

Finally, with a soft creak, the door swung open. She walked to the bedside.

I lay beneath the quilt. My entire body was curled into a tight ball.

Joan’s face cycled between pale and flushed. She assumed I was giving her the silent treatment.

“Steven, since you’ve found out, there is no point hiding it anymore. Yes, I was the one who took Jimmy. But this all started because of you.”

She glanced at me and paused before continuing.

“As long as you don’t make a big deal out of it, we could still make this marriage work.”

Silence filled the room for dozens of seconds.

Joan’s expression soured further. She snorted.

“Oh, so now you are pretending to be dead? Fine. Let us see how long you can keep this up.”

I watched her furious outburst with cold indifference. Whatever I had once felt for her was gone.

I found myself wondering what expression she would wear when she finally realized she had been standing beside a corpse.

Joan slammed the door and left, but she returned before long, leading a four-year-old child by the hand.

My eyes widened instantly. I recognized him at once. He was my son, Jimmy.

His eyes were identical to mine.

Tears spilled from my eyes. I rushed forward to embrace him, but my arms passed through his small body.

Joan sounded almost pleased with herself as she dropped the child onto the bed.

“I’ve been keeping him at my mother’s house this whole time. Now, I’ve brought him back. Happy?”

With that, she left again with Randy.

What a monster. That woman was a monster. How could she abandon a four-year-old child there alone?

The dark room was silent. Jimmy began to cry in fear.

It broke my heart. I swallowed my anguish and tried to soothe him.

“It’s okay, Jimmy. I’m right here.”

I was a fool. How could the living ever hear the voice of the dead?

Jimmy curled up beside me. He wept until exhaustion carried him into sleep.

I watched him with a heart full of love. Bitter tears streamed down my face.

He must have been so frightened and so hungry. Even in his sleep, pain was etched across his little face.

I stayed by his side all night. The next morning, Jimmy sat up groggily.

His young voice quavered with panic.

“Grandma, where are you? I’m hungry.”

He rubbed his swollen eyes and cast a timid glance at my corpse beside him.

After a long hesitation, he asked in a soft voice, “Mister, could you get up and find me something to eat? I promise I’ll be good. I only need a little food.”

When no answer came, disappointment filled his face. He climbed off the bed.

Then, he spotted the bottle on the floor. I panicked. They were my sleeping pills.

A few tablets still remained.

My spirit lurched in terror.

Jimmy’s face lit up with joy. “Candy!”

He tipped the pills into his palm and turned to look at me.

With a pleading little smile, he said, “Mister, I will only take three. I’m really hungry.”

Without waiting, he shoved them into his mouth.

“No!” I screamed in desperation.

I lunged to stop him, but my hands passed through him.

The next moment, the door crashed open. Joan stood in the frame.

The moment she saw what Jimmy was doing, her eyes widened in horror.

She sprinted across the room and shoved her fingers into his mouth.

“Spit them out! Spit them out right now!”

Jimmy burst into terrified sobs.

“Please don’t hit me! I’m sorry, Mommy! I won’t do it again!”

After she was certain every pill was out of his mouth, the color returned to her face.

She turned to look at me. Her eyes were filled with disgust.

Before she could speak, Randy stepped forward and leveled his accusation at me first.

“Steven, this is unbelievably irresponsible. Jimmy is only four years old. You could’ve gotten him killed. I know you are angry that Joan took him away, but you can’t take your frustration out on Jimmy.”

He heaped his insults upon me without restraint while Joan watched in cold silence.

Had they drawn closer, they might have taken notice of my skin, dry and waxy, and the faint odor beginning to rise from my flesh.

Yet disappointingly, after standing there for three minutes, Joan picked up Jimmy and walked out of the room.

She took Jimmy out for lunch, but throughout the meal, she seemed distracted.

Joan unlocked her phone and stared at the screen. It had been nearly two days since I had last spoken to her.

For reasons she could not explain, a rare sense of unease began creeping into her chest.

I had never given her the silent treatment. I had once told her, “When something goes wrong, I won’t run from it. I’d rather face it head-on and deal with it.”

Even when I caught her cheating, when I was completely shattered, I had never backed away from a confrontation.

Suddenly, something seemed to click in Joan’s mind. Maybe something had really happened to me.

She shot to her feet and muttered under her breath, “No, something’s wrong.”

She prepared to rush back home.