Three Years Too Late

Three years after I was dead, Andrew Lorne and his mother, Dorothy Evans, came to the countryside to take me back.

The moment the heavily rusted iron gates creaked open and the weed-choked yard came into view, their expressions soured.

"That jinx, Jovana! Look at what she's done to our family residence," Dorothy grumbled, furiously yanking away the blades of grass in her way as she stormed inside.

Her eyes burned with fury as she hollered, "Where is she? She doesn't even bother to clean the house! It took us a great deal to come all the way here, yet she doesn't even want to show up!

"Oh, my poor Andy! How unfortunate of you to have married such a useless woman."

Hearing this, Andrew grew increasingly agitated, the joy he had shown when he first arrived completely gone from his eyes.

He kicked open the bedroom door. A musty smell hit him, and he immediately covered his nose and mouth, grimacing in disgust.

Pulling out a document from his bag, he tossed it onto the table and began, "Jovana, come out. I'm not in the mood to argue. It's been three years—you should know better by now.

"Caden is about to start school, and Tiana needs a house nearby. Sign this property transfer agreement, and I'll take you and Stella home right away."

Seconds ticked by, but the silence in the room remained. No one came out to respond.

Andrew's patience was running thin. "Jovana, my patience has its limits—"

Before he could finish, my five-year-old daughter, Stella Lorne, emerged from the overgrown weeds. Her clothes were tattered, and she was covered in dirt from head to toe. A homeless man stood beside her, holding her hand.

"Daddy, Mommy's already dead," she muttered.

Shock flashed across Andrew's face before his expression twisted into confusion.

"Are you Stella?" he asked hesitantly.

He stood stunned for a while before edging closer to her, disbelief written all over his face. Kicking the homeless man away, he scooped her into his arms, anger blazing in his eyes as he glanced around.

"Jovana, you vicious woman! I can't believe you abused our daughter with someone else just to gain my sympathy!"

Stella tugged at Andrew's sleeve, trying to explain that I was already dead. But he refused to believe her.

His expression turned icy as he said, "Stella, what's wrong with you? It's been three years, yet you still haven't kicked that compulsive lying habit.

"Tell me, what on earth is your mom playing at? Where is she hiding?"

Andrew looked so confident, as if he were certain I was hiding in some corner.

"Jovana, come out already!" he called out. "Quit your act. I've had enough.

"You're just upset with me because I brought Tiana and Caden to live with us three years ago, aren't you? Come on, it's been so long. Do you really have to drag this out and take it out on Stella?"

That wasn't the truth. How I wished I could tell him that I was already dead to his face—but I couldn't.

No one could see me. I was just a spirit.

…

When Andrew forcibly sent me to the countryside three years ago, Tiana also tagged along in secret.

She hired a few beggars and had them barge into my house and do anything they wanted with me. I had struggled frantically to no avail, and they beat me to a pulp.

No one discovered my body, and it began to decay in my room.

Every day, my poor Stella went out to beg, then come back to sleep beside me. Only after my body had completely decomposed did she eventually realize I had left her—for good.

Just when she was about to be starved to death, a homeless man passed by and saved her. He even buried my remains in the yard for her.

Seeing this, the homeless man finally understood that Andrew was my family.

He staggered to his feet and pointed at a pear tree in the yard, wanting to tell Andrew and Dorothy that I was buried there. But he was mute—all he could manage were frantic gestures that did nothing but piss Andrew off.

Enraged, Andrew dragged Stella to Dorothy and lunged at the homeless man, landing several punches on him.

"You animal! Just how much did Jovana pay you to keep this act up? Spit it out now! Where is she?"

As he spoke, he picked up a long stick from the ground and used it to whack the homeless man.

Blood instantly streamed down the man's face. But still looking indignant, he dragged himself toward the pear tree.

Andrew's gaze followed his movement. For some reason, the pear tree felt familiar. He trudged toward the tree, reaching out to touch it.

Just then, a voice rang out from the entrance.

"I know where Jovana is."