Oh, Now You Feel Bad?

It hit me out of nowhere——a sharp, crushing pain in my chest that stole the air from my lungs."Mommy, what's wrong?"Luca's voice cut through the haze. My three-year-old was sitting right there, eyes wide and terrified.I tried to smile, keep it together for him, but it felt fake even to me. I wanted to reach out, ruffle his messy hair, but my arm? Useless. Like it didn't belong to me anymore.Luca's eyes welled up as he took in my pale face.Then came the sobs, loud and desperate. "Mommy, are you dying? Don't leave me, please!"Each cry felt like a hammer to my skull, the pain in my chest squeezing tighter, sharper."Go... call... Daddy," I gasped.He didn't understand what was happening, so I could only tell him to call my husband, Bill Clayton, for help.Luca wiped his face, slid off the bed, and bolted to the living room. Moments later, he was back, clutching my phone.He held the phone up to my face, unlocking it. But by then, I was already slipping away, my body nothing more tha

Just as Bill was about to step into the bedroom, his phone buzzed."Bill, I'm not feeling well. Can you come be with me?" Ima's voice drifted through, all soft and pitiful.Bill froze. "Okay, I'll be there soon. Wait for me!"Without a second thought, he turned to leave, but Luca grabbed his hand."Daddy, come look at Mommy!" Luca said, trying to tug him toward the bedroom.Bill, annoyed, shoved him aside. "I've got work to do. Go wake your mom up and tell her to make you breakfast."Grabbing his coat, he bolted out the door.I waved my arms, shouting like a madwoman. "Don't go! Just one look! She's got a stomachache, but I'm dead!"But of course, Bill couldn't hear me. He was already halfway to his precious Ima.The door slammed so hard it rattled the walls, making Luca jump. He let out a wail so loud it bounced off the apartment.Eventually, he shuffled back to the bedroom, climbed up onto the bed, and curled against my body.I cried too, watching him. God, I wanted to scoop him up a

I darted to the kitchen. The eggs were toast—literally. Charcoal-black and smoking like a tire fire.The apartment was choking on smoke, getting thicker by the second. I hovered there, useless and furious at myself.I couldn't fix this. I couldn't save him.Because I was already dead.Maybe Luca was meant to go with me. Maybe today was his day too.And then I heard it. The front door unlocking.Bill.He stepped inside, already scowling. The second he saw the smoke, he started shouting. "Rhea! What the hell is this? Can't you see the place looks like a BBQ pit? Are you blind?"He stomped into the kitchen, slapped off the stove, and cranked the exhaust fan.Luca peeked out from behind the couch. The second he spotted Bill, he ran straight into his arms, sobbing hard.And what did Bill do? Did he ask him if he was okay? Nope. He frowned. "Where's your mom? She left you here alone to go grocery shopping, didn't she? Unreal."Then, he whipped out his phone and started firing off one-minute

"Bill, I'm starving. Let's go already," Ima whined, giving his arm a shove.The bedroom door, left slightly ajar, creaked shut with a soft click."Fine. Let's go. It's not like it's cold in the car anyway," Bill muttered.I screamed. Begged. Tried to shove him toward the bedroom.Just look! Please, just look!But my hands went straight through him like smoke.***They ended up in some fancy hotel restaurant, the kind with spotless white tablecloths and expensive cutlery. Ima wasted no time, ordering enough food to feed a small army."Luca, sweetie, let me peel some shrimp for you," she said, putting on her best look-how-maternal-I-am act.Luca, starving, didn't care about the show. He stuffed his face like he hadn't eaten in days—because he hadn't.Once he was full, Ima handed him her phone with cartoons queued up. Then she took a sip of wine before leaning in toward Bill, her eyes doing all the talking.Bill instinctively wanted to pull away.But then Ima gave him a sly sm

"Rhea can't be dead! That's impossible—I was just home a few days ago, and she was sleeping in the bedroom," Bill said, his voice rising in panic. "And Luca—I even took him out to eat at a hotel! How could they be dead?"He lunged at the officer, trying to stop him from pulling back the white sheet."Mommy, aren't we right here? Why does Daddy act like he can't see us?" Luca asked, his little hand clutching mine tightly. He seemed confused by Bill's grief."Sweetheart, we're not part of this world anymore." I stroked his soft hair. "That's why Daddy can't see us."The police led Bill away to an office for questioning, while the medical examiner focused on us. His face was grim as he worked, carefully preparing our bodies.Bill's protests echoed down the hallway, alternating between sobs and claims of how hard he worked to provide for us, how much he loved Luca."Spare me the act!" the medical examiner finally snapped. "Your wife died on June 22. You went home on June 23 and didn't even