Chapter 3: A Mother's Secret

I hurried out, stumbling as I tried to explain: 'No, I… something happened here…'

I waved the contract in the air, half-hoping she’d see how scared I was. My voice shook, words tumbling out in a rush.

My mom cut me off: 'You never listen to me, always like this…'

She folded her arms, mouth set in a thin line. Her eyes were tired, but her scolding felt almost comforting—a return to normal, to the world I understood.

I shrank to the side, trembling as she laid into me. I felt like a little kid again, getting caught sneaking cookies before dinner. But the fear in my gut hadn’t faded.

The phone in my pocket stopped vibrating. The silence was deafening. I glanced down, expecting another message, but nothing came.

Could it be that not making a choice didn’t have any consequences?

Maybe I’d broken the pattern, found a way out. I hardly dared to hope.

That didn’t seem likely. The voice in my head was skeptical—nothing this night had gone my way.

But with my mom there, all my fear slowly faded… Her presence filled the space, pushing back the shadows. I felt safer, even as questions crowded my mind.

'You have to listen from now on, understand?'

She softened a little, her voice quieter. She put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently.

I nodded.

I swallowed, unable to speak. I just wanted this night to end.

After scolding me, she turned and walked toward the living room. Her slippers scuffed against the tile. I watched her go, feeling the world settle back into place—almost.

Since the power was still out, I kept feeling there was something strange about her back. The way she moved seemed off, stiffer than usual. Shadows clung to her outline, making it hard to see her face.

Suddenly I remembered—wasn’t she supposed to be on a work trip these past two days?

I’d watched her car pull out, taillights disappearing down our street. No way she was here now. No way she could’ve made it back this quick, not unless she drove through the night. But she hated driving after dark.

So I asked her, 'Mom, weren’t you supposed to be working? How did you get back in the middle of the night?'

I tried to keep my voice steady, casual. But my nerves were shot, my words shaking.

She suddenly stopped. Her back was to me, shoulders tense. I felt the hairs on my neck stand up.

And the more I looked at her back, the more uneasy I felt. Something was wrong. Her silhouette seemed just a little too tall, her arms hanging at odd angles.

She said, 'Because there’s something you need to know. Right now.'

Her voice was low, almost monotone. My heart pounded, a warning bell in my chest.

I was puzzled: 'What is it?'

I stepped forward, wanting to see her face. The contract in my hand felt heavier now.

She still faced away from me and continued, 'It’s about your dad.'

I froze. For a second, everything else faded away. My dad—she never spoke about him. Ever.

At that moment, I perked up and even forgot to tell her about the weird things that had just happened to me.

Because I never had a father growing up, and my mom never let me ask about him. He was a phantom in our family history. A blank space in every story. It made me feel different, but I’d learned to live with it.

Every time I asked, she got angry. Sometimes, she’d storm off. Sometimes, she’d just go silent for hours, lost in her own head.

Why did she suddenly want to tell me now?

My mind raced. Was this connected to the ghost? To the contract? Was she finally going to tell me the truth?

'Mom, did something happen?' I took a few steps forward, but my mom still hadn’t moved at all. 'Why don’t we talk in the living room?'

My hands trembled, knuckles white. I needed to see her face, needed to know this was really her. I eyed the couch, the soft lamplight that would make everything feel safer.

Honestly, I was still a little scared, worried more strange messages would show up. My phone felt hot in my pocket, the memory of those texts like an itch I couldn’t scratch.

But she shook her head: 'It doesn’t matter where we talk, I’ll just say it now.'

Her voice was still strange, flat. I hugged the old contract to my chest, my pulse roaring in my ears.

'When I was pregnant with you…'

Her voice dropped to a whisper. Something cold slithered down my spine. Whatever she said next would change everything—if I survived long enough to hear it.