Chapter 3

However, Randy suddenly said, “I saw Steven get up and eat yesterday.”

Joan froze for a moment before turning around.

She asked, “He got up yesterday?”

Randy nodded and looked uncomfortable.

“Yeah. I even tried talking to him, but he ignored me. He told me to get out and everything.”

Joan’s expression immediately darkened.

She snorted and sat back down.

“I knew it. He’s been pretending to be ill. Looks like all that talk about loving his son has been an act. He nearly got Jimmy killed.”

Floating above them, I could only let out a bitter laugh. Far from faking an illness, I was dead.

As I watched the triumphant smile tug at Randy’s lips, I found myself wondering whether he would still be able to smile when the truth finally came out.

I drifted back home and spent several more hours keeping watch over my own body.

My phone suddenly rang. It was my mother.

After two days without hearing from me, she must have sensed that something was wrong.

She called three times in a row. Finally, the ringing stopped.

Just as I expected, less than half an hour later, she arrived.

Her breathing was ragged. Her face was pale with worry.

She headed straight for the master bedroom.

“Steven? Steven?”

When she did not find me there, she checked the guest room. Then, she opened the door to the nursery.

“Ahh! Steven!”

A heart-wrenching scream shattered the silence.

What happened next was almost too painful for me to watch.

Mom sobbed uncontrollably as she pulled my body into her arms and rocked back and forth.

“How could you leave me? How am I supposed to go on without you?”

Hours later, Mom took me away.

The door opened again that evening. Joan stumbled inside, reeking of alcohol.

She shoved Randy’s supporting hand away and marched straight toward the nursery.

“Steven, how much longer are you going to keep up this ridiculous act of playing dead?”

The words died on her lips. She froze.

The bed was empty. I was gone.

A strange pang shot through her chest.

Then, she scoffed. “So, you finally gave up the act and ran away from home? Fine. Leave. Don’t ever come back.”

She returned to the living room and dropped heavily onto the couch.

Randy curled his lip in disgust.

“Running off is one thing, but did he have to leave the house smelling like that? It’s making me sick.”

Joan seemed not to hear him at all. As if she suddenly remembered something, she walked into the bedroom and yanked open the closet doors.

All of my clothes were still there, untouched.

Instantly, she let out a sigh of relief.

“I thought he had developed some pride. He didn’t even take his clothes with him. This is just another stunt to make me come begging for him to come back. Well, dream on.”

With her mind at ease, she even let Randy move in.

“Since he doesn’t care about this home, let’s see how long he can keep this up.”

I watched it all with cold detachment as my spirit drifted silently through the rooms.

Over the next few days, Joan spent her time partying and showing up at public events with Randy at her side.

However, instead of becoming happier, she grew increasingly irritable and withdrawn.

Finally, on the seventh day after my disappearance, she could no longer take it.

She brought Jimmy back home.

Opening our chat history, she shoved the phone toward him and ordered him to call for “Daddy.”

Jimmy was so frightened that he could not speak.

Joan’s face darkened. She yelled in anger, “Say it! Are you deaf? I told you to call your father! Didn’t you hear me?”

Jimmy’s fear finally overwhelmed him. He burst into tears.

Rage consumed me. I wanted nothing more than to tear her apart with my bare hands.

Jimmy was only four years old. She would stop at nothing just to torment me.

“Daddy... Daddy...”

After getting what she wanted, she sent the audio clip.

“Steven, do you still want your son or not? What kind of father just sits back and lets his child cry like this?”

Randy walked over and wrapped his arms around her. His voice was gentle as he said, “Don’t be upset, Joan. He’s so heartless, so why do you still care about him? Someone like him doesn’t deserve to be a father.”

Joan remained silent for a long time. Her eyes stayed fixed on her phone, which remained as quiet as ever.

At last, she could not take it anymore. She called me.

She called three times in a row. Nothing changed. No one answered.

Smash! Joan hurled the phone against the wall and shattered it.