Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kimberly Corman’s life was normal until her twenties. First, her mother was killed during a botched robbery, then her relationship with her father grew tense. Later, she had a vision of a terrible car accident, was hunted by Death itself as she watched her friends die one by one, and eventually had to kill herself to break the chain.

All of that in just one year.

Rough life, huh?

If only it were that simple. Kimberly learned the hard way that her life had changed so drastically it would never go back to normal. Not in a million years.

It had been about six months since the accident. Kimberly had begun to suffer from terrible nightmares—visions of fire, violent winds, destruction—always waking drenched in sweat. Sometimes her skin felt like it was burning, other times she woke with sharp pain in her back. Sleep became harder and harder to return to, and the exhaustion started bleeding into her daily life. Her grades at college dropped, and all because of these relentless nightmares.

But on one night in particular, real chaos began.

Kimberly jolted awake from yet another nightmare, drenched in sweat, her throat dry as sandpaper. She dragged herself to the kitchen for a glass of water, just enough to calm her nerves, then returned to her room. But as she stepped inside, she heard something—something that would change her life forever…

“For the last time, a stew is not the same thing as a casserole.”

“Both are made in a pot.”

“But with different methods.”

Kimberly froze in the doorway. Two male voices. Definitely not hers. And they were coming from inside her room.

Naturally, panic hit—she was a young woman living alone, with two possible intruders in her bedroom.

“It’s. Food. In. A. Pot.”

“But the cooking method is different.”

Two strange men in her room… apparently arguing over the difference between a stew and a casserole? …Was there even a difference?

Kimberly leaned forward just enough to peek inside. She didn’t see anyone, but the small argument came from the corner near her bed. Quietly, she took a couple steps in—just enough to grab the TV remote from her nightstand.

“I’m starting to think your cooking skills aren’t that great.”

“And I’m starting to think about punching you in the face.”

“I’m underage. That’s illegal.”

That’s when she saw them. Two men standing in the corner, staring at each other. Terrified, Kimberly raised her arm and hurled the remote at the dark-haired one.

But nothing could’ve prepared her for what happened next.

The remote flew straight at the man. Both of them noticed it coming, and when it should have hit—
It didn’t.

Kimberly watched as the remote went through the dark-haired man and smashed against the wall behind him.

“What the hell was that?!” the man barked. “Why the hell did she just throw the remote at the wall?”

“Sam…” The other one—he looked younger than the dark-haired man, Sam, apparently—narrowed his eyes. “I think… she can see us.”

“What?” Sam turned, locking eyes with Kimberly. She was paler than usual, backing away slowly until she bumped against her dresser. Which, in a way, was lucky.

Because from there, she could grab the wooden bat resting beside it. A gift from her father—oak, heavy, and solid. Did Kimberly play baseball? No. He’d given it to her for self-defense.

And right now, she was going to need it.

“Who the hell are you?!” Kimberly shouted, raising the bat defensively. If only her father were home—her scream alone would’ve been enough of a warning.

“You… can see us?” Sam asked.

What kind of question was that? …Oh, great. Junkies. Two junkies who’d broken into her room.

“Kimberly, listen” the other boy spoke.

“How do you know my name?” Kimberly snapped, eyes darting straight to the lighter-haired boy. “And what the hell are you doing in my room? Answer me!”

Both men slowly raised their hands, trying to calm her down, hoping she’d lower the bat.

“Yes, we know your name, but it’s not for anything bad,” the younger boy explained carefully. “I’m pretty sure you know me, too.”

“I’ve never seen you in my life,” Kimberly shot back immediately.

“Not in person. But you’ve seen my picture.”

Kim frowned. His picture? How would she have seen his picture?

And then, a chill ran down her spine as the memory slammed into her. She had seen him before—not in person, but in photographs.

She remembered looking into visions, digging into anything she could find, and stumbling across his face on the infamous “death wall” Clear had plastered all over her room at the psychiatric ward. She had heard his name whispered and repeated countless times after the highway accident.

“Alex Browning?” Kimberly whispered.

Alex nodded slowly.

“But… you’re dead,” she said, almost as if trying to convince herself more than telling the… ghost?

“I am,” Alex said calmly, taking a step forward. Kimberly’s terror spiked as she watched him walk straight through her bed—his legs literally phasing through the mattress.

That was it for her.

Everything went black, and Kimberly collapsed to the floor, unconscious, as the two boys looked down at her.

“You killed her, Alex,” Sam muttered.

Alex shot him a glare.

A few minutes later, Kimberly stirred awake, her head spinning. For a second, she thought it had all just been a dream—no two ghosts in her room, no insane argument about stew versus casserole. But waking up on the floor and spotting the bat beside her told her otherwise.

Slowly, she pushed herself up, scanning every corner of her room to make sure the two strange men were gone. She picked up the bat again and tiptoed across the room. No trace of them. But instead of feeling relieved, her anxiety only grew. Either those weird guys—who definitely weren’t ghosts—were still somewhere in her house, or she was hallucinating from sheer exhaustion and sleep deprivation.

“It’s all in your head, Kim,” she muttered to herself, trying to calm down.

“I wish I could tell you that’s true. But it’s not.”

The voice came out of nowhere, and Kimberly screamed, stumbling back into the wall. Sam—the dark-haired man—was standing right in front of her.

“Whoa, relax,” he said, lifting his hands in peace. But Kimberly swung the bat at him anyway. Of course, it passed right through his body. She froze for a split second, then swung again. And again. Each time, the bat sliced through him like he wasn’t even there. Sam’s face twisted into a frown. “Could you stop that? It’s annoying.”

“No way,” Kimberly whispered, stopping in her tracks. “You’re… actual ghosts.”

“We didn’t mean to scare you,” Alex said suddenly, phasing right through the wall. “Sorry about that.”

Kimberly stared at both of them, sighed, and ran her hands down her face. She dropped the bat, finally beginning to process what was happening in her bedroom. Then she took a deep breath.

“If you’re Alex Browning,” she said, pointing at Alex before turning her gaze to Sam, “then who the hell are you?”

“Thanks for asking,” he replied with heavy sarcasm. “Name’s Sam Lawton… I also had a vision of an accident.”

That left Kimberly speechless. She shuffled over to the bed, sat down, and tried to think. Alex and Sam approached slowly, careful to give her some space.

“How did it happen?” she finally asked, looking at Sam.

“The North Bay Bridge collapse,” Sam answered.

Kimberly remembered that one. She’d seen it on the news with her parents. She thought it was the worst disaster she’d ever seen… well, until Route 23.

“So I guess you died too…” Kimberly said.

Sam let out a short laugh.

“My luck put me on Flight 180,” he said, shooting Alex a look. “Didn’t listen to the crazy teenager being dragged off the plane and… boom.”

Kimberly nodded, ignoring the little voice in her head screaming she was losing her mind.

“And then you died from a brick to the head,” she said, pointing at Alex.

Sam immediately stifled a laugh.

“Could you stop making fun of my death?” Alex glared at him.

“Sorry! But come on, man—you dodged, what, twelve brutal deaths?” Sam smirked. “And then a stray cat knocks over some bricks at a construction site and that’s what kills you?”

Sam broke into another laugh.

“You’re mocking a teenager, you know,” Alex shot back. “I expected more maturity from someone twenty years older than me.”

“Oh, not this again,” Sam groaned, and the two launched straight into an argument, practically forgetting Kimberly was even there.

Of course, Kimberly wasn’t about to let two ghosts bicker in her bedroom.

“Hey!” she snapped, loud enough to shut them up. “It’s bad enough I can see ghosts—I don’t need to hear them fighting over something stupid.”

“Sorry,” they both muttered at the same time.

Kim sighed, exhausted, before working up the nerve to ask the question burning in her mind.

“How is it that I can even see you?” she asked.

“I wish I had an answer, Kim,” Alex admitted. “But truth is, we don’t even know why you can suddenly see and hear us.”

“Wait.” Kimberly frowned. “Suddenly? …How long have you been ghosts?”

“Good question,” Sam said, pausing for a moment. “We don’t really keep track of months. Kinda hard to measure time when you’re dead. But out of nowhere, we just… showed up at the hospital you were in.”

“You’ve been following me since the hospital?” Kimberly asked.

"'Following’ isn’t the word I’d use,” Alex said quickly, almost defensive. “We can move around on our own. But in the end, something always drags us back to you at night. We’re… tied to you.”

“Exactly,” Sam agreed. “The moment I died, I woke up in some dark room. No idea how long I was there before Alex just appeared out of nowhere too. Then something pulled us straight to the hospital where you were. We haven’t been back since.

I tried moving around on my own after that. First thing I did was head to the cemetery to find my grave. Thought I could stay there. But the moment night hit, I felt something yanking me back, and the next thing I knew—I was with you again.”

“Same thing happened to me,” Alex said with a shrug. “And being dead, well… it’s not exactly easy to investigate on your own.”

“Look, Kimberly,” Sam said, his tone softening this time. “We didn’t mean to scare you. But honestly, Alex and I don’t have much of a choice until we figure out what’s going on.”

This was too much for Kimberly. She was drained, exhausted, desperate for rest.

“Could you guys just… go? Like, to another room or something?” she asked. “I need to sleep. And I’ll sleep a lot better knowing I don’t have two ghost guys hanging around in my bedroom.”

“Sure, no problem,” Sam said.

“Rest well,” Alex added.

And in an instant, they vanished, leaving Kimberly alone.

“I’m losing my mind…” she whispered before crawling into bed.

The next morning, Kimberly tried her hardest to forget everything, convincing herself it had all just been a nightmare… at least until she walked into the kitchen and saw Sam watching her dad cook breakfast.

After that, she did her best to ignore them—both Sam and Alex. But Alex especially seemed like he wanted to talk about something.

Kimberly felt she was about to snap. She needed to get out. Luckily, she already had plans to meet someone that day.

“Thomas, I’m losing it,” Kimberly blurted the moment Thomas slid into the booth across from her at the café.

“Wow, no ‘hi’? Guess you really need to talk,” he said, half joking but with genuine concern in his eyes.

“It’s just…” Kimberly sighed, staring down at the table. She didn’t dare look straight ahead—partly out of fear of Thomas’s reaction, but mostly because damn it, Sam and Alex were sitting right there on either side of him. “Promise me you won’t judge me.”

“Kim,” Thomas said gently, reaching across the table to take her hand, “nothing you say is going to make me judge you.”

“That’s sweet,” Sam said warmly. Kimberly squeezed her eyes shut.

“I’m seeing things,” she confessed, her voice trembling as she looked at Thomas.

“You mean… visions again?” he asked carefully.

“No.” She shook her head. “It’s something different. Because if I’m not completely losing it… I’m seeing… ghosts.”

Silence fell over the table.

Alex glanced between Thomas and Kimberly, while Sam just stared directly at Thomas, waiting for his reaction.

“Ghosts of who?” Thomas finally asked after a long pause.

“Alex… Alex Browning,” Kimberly whispered. “And another guy who also had a premonition of an accident.”

“I do have a name, you know,” Sam muttered.

“His name’s Sam Lawton. He saw the North Bay Bridge collapse,” Kimberly explained nervously. “They said they’ve been with me ever since I was revived at the hospital. And for some reason… last night, I started being able to see them.”

Thomas sat back, clearly trying to process the avalanche of information Kimberly had just thrown at him.

“Thomas, please… say something,” Kimberly begged, squeezing his hand tighter.

“I’m gonna need you to tell me more about this, Kim,” Thomas said softly.

Kimberly looked at him, a slow smile spreading across her face. In his voice, she heard genuine understanding—and that made her feel safer.

“You’ve got a good man here, Kim,” Sam said with a grin. Kimberly returned the smile, and Thomas caught the small gesture.

“You’re… seeing them here? Right now?” Thomas asked, sounding a little alarmed. Kimberly nodded.

“They’re sitting on either side of you,” she replied.

Immediately, Alex reached a hand across Thomas’s shoulder. Of course, it went right through him, but the contact made Thomas shiver violently, his body trembling for a few seconds.

“What was that?” Thomas asked, whipping his head to the left.

“You felt that?” Kimberly asked quickly. “That was Alex. He ran his hand across your shoulder.”

“Yeah,” Thomas admitted, still unsettled.

“Sam, could you try touching him?” Kimberly asked. Thomas was about to protest, but Sam had already placed his hand on Thomas’s other shoulder, sending another harsh shiver through him.

“Oh…” Kimberly breathed.

“He can feel us,” Alex concluded.

“Well, I guess that makes things easier,” Sam said.

But no—nothing about this would ever be easy.

Chapter Text

Kimberly still wasn’t used to seeing two ghosts.

And even less used to the fact that these two were such chatterboxes.

“So we joined the basketball team because Tod insisted it would make us popular with the girls,” Alex was talking while Kimberly tried to finish a college assignment. “But he screwed up horribly in the very first game, and the coach wanted to kick him out. But me—by the way, I was a way better player than Tod—I convinced him to just bench Tod instead. Thanks to me, Tod got to stay on the team.”

“Fascinating,” she replied.

And Sam wasn’t any better.

“Your father just doesn’t get it, Kimberly. Beef Wellington needs puff pastry—that’s what makes it Beef Wellington,” Sam scolded after overhearing a talk about the dinner Kimberly’s dad was planning for when Thomas came over. “Why would he think making it without the pastry is a good idea? What’s next? Saying he doesn’t want to use Dijon mustard?”

“You know what, Kim?” her father said. “I’m sure I can make that dish without the mustard. I don’t like it one bit.”

Sam let out an annoyed groan, and she sighed quietly.

“They’re driving me insane, Thomas,” Kimberly said, collapsing onto the couch with a tired sigh.

“Are they really that bad?” Thomas asked, coming back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and two cans of soda in his hands.

“They won’t stop talking,” Kimberly said, sitting up so Thomas could sit next to her.

“We’re just being social,” Sam said. Both he and Alex were standing behind the couch.

“What, did you think we wouldn’t talk to you?” Alex asked. “Sam bores me.”

“Screw you, Alex,” Sam snapped.

“They’re so exhausting,” Kim muttered, ignoring the ghosts.

“Are they here right now?” Thomas asked as he sat down beside her.

“They never leave me alone,” she told him.

“Ouch,” Sam said, and Kim rolled her eyes.

“Can you guys leave?” Kim asked, looking at the two ghosts. “It’s not even night yet, you can go wander around.”

“Such a drag,” Alex muttered before vanishing. He left silently, and Kim let out a relieved sigh.

“They’re gone,” she said, finally relaxed.

“I think you need to start setting some ground rules with them,” Thomas said, resting a hand on Kim’s shoulder.

“What if we just try an exorcism?” Kim asked, making Thomas chuckle, which in turn made her start to smile too. “I’m serious—draw a salt circle, light some candles, maybe toss holy water on them. It might work.”

Thomas kept laughing at Kimberly’s words, but then a thought crossed his mind.

“I think I’ve got a solution to your problems,” he said with a grin.

“And what’s that?”

“Maybe you should just… be their friend,” Thomas suggested.

“Be their friend?” Kimberly raised a brow, turning to look at him. “And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”

“By getting to know them,” he said simply, as if it were obvious. “Kim, as far as we know—which isn’t much—those ghosts might be tied to you forever. Ignoring them isn’t going to be the best option. You can’t ignore them forever.”

“Is that a bet?” Kim joked, making Thomas laugh again. “Now I’ve got to figure out how to befriend two ghosts when all I know about them is how they died.”

“You could start by asking,” Thomas shrugged, leaving Kimberly thoughtful.

Asking…

“All right, we need to improve… whatever this is,” Kim tried to explain, raising her hands as if she could make sense of it, but failed.

“I don’t get it,” Alex asked.

“She’s sick of us, so she’s looking for solutions,” Sam replied from his seat on the kitchen counter.

At the moment, the three of them were in the Corman kitchen. Thankfully, her dad had gone on a fishing trip with his buddies. That left Kim alone with two annoying ghosts for the whole weekend.

“That’s not it… well, yeah, it is,” Kim admitted. “You two can be really irritating when you set your minds to it.”

“Thanks,” Sam grinned, and Kim had to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

“Listen, neither you nor I know why I’m the only one who can see you. We don’t know what’s keeping you tied to this plane, so if this is going to be our life… my life, your death,” she clarified, “then we need to get along better.”

“Please tell me we’re not doing trust exercises,” Sam begged.

“No,” she answered flatly.

“Thank God. I did that at my last office job and it was hell.”

“What I had in mind was starting with something you two have in common,” Kim said, pointing at them. Alex and Sam looked each other up and down, with clear distaste, then turned back to Kim, waiting for her answer.

“We’re going to visit your graves.”

The car ride was quiet. Kim drove carefully, the radio at a modest volume. Every now and then she glanced at the rearview mirror to see Sam and Alex in the backseat—Alex staring out the window, Sam staring at his hands.

Luckily, both were buried in the same cemetery.

Unluckily, that cemetery was also where all her friends and her mother were buried.

When she parked, Kim headed to the flower stalls outside the gates, buying a large bouquet before walking into the cemetery with the two ghosts trailing behind her.

“My grave’s over there,” Alex said, pointing down a path.

The three of them walked for a few minutes until they reached the section he indicated. Then, in an instant, Alex vanished from Kim’s side and reappeared several feet ahead.

“Here it is,” he said, pointing down. Kim and Sam caught up to him.

Kimberly looked down at the headstone.

Alex Theodore Browning
September 25, 1982 — March 4, 2001

She looked at her bouquet, plucked one flower free, and crouched down to lay it gently on the grave.

“Wait, isn’t your name Alexander?” Sam asked, tilting his head.

“Why would you think my name was Alexander?”

“Alex is short for Alexander,” Sam said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well, my parents just went straight for Alex,” Alex shot back. But Sam’s attention was on the grave.

“Wait—you were born in 1982… died in 2001…”

“Yeah, I see you can read,” Alex muttered.

“So you were already eighteen when you died,” Sam said seriously, staring at Alex. “You’ve spent months excusing yourself by saying you’re underage just to avoid the well-deserved beating I owe you.”

“Uh… that’s not true, legally adulthood is at twenty-one—” Alex couldn’t finish before Sam smacked him on the shoulder. “Ow! That actually hurt!”

“Good! You damn anemic pest, you’ve been annoying me for months!” Sam complained, smacking Alex again while Alex tried to dodge away.

“Stop it!” Alex yelled. “Sam, cut it out! Kim, say something!”

Kim was trying to count to ten while crouched by Alex’s grave, but it wasn’t enough. She shot up to her feet.

“Enough!” she shouted. Both ghosts froze. Unfortunately, so did an elderly couple walking nearby. They stared at Kim, and she slowly turned to meet their eyes. “Uh… He was a really close cousin, and I miss him so much.”

She faked a sob, and the old couple gave her a strange look before walking away. Once they were gone, she let out a weary sigh.

“Let’s go to your grave, Sam,” Kim said, placing the flower on Alex’s grave. But that made Alex notice something.

“That’s not the only flower…” Alex said quietly. Both Kim and Sam turned to look. Besides the small red flower Kim had left, there was also a nearly-wilted bouquet and a couple of fresher lilies beside it. “The bouquet’s from my parents—it was here last time I came… And the lilies, they’re Mrs. Waggner’s favorite flower.”

Kim and Sam fell silent, watching Alex turn his gaze toward the other graves.

“Tod,” Alex whispered, moving quickly toward the next section. He almost ran, and Kim and Sam followed him to the grave of Tod Waggner, which was covered in white lilies. “He was my best friend… he was the first to die.”

Kim recognized the name immediately. She pulled a flower from her bouquet and crouched to lay it gently on the grave.

“You know, Alex?” she said as she stood, looking at him. “He saved my life.”

“What do you mean?” Alex asked.

“The day after he died, I was with my mom running errands. I got distracted watching the news about his death, and my mom went ahead to the car… A group of thieves tried to steal it, and she fought back,” Kim explained, her voice trembling. “They shot her. She died. Maybe if I hadn’t been distracted watching the report, I would’ve died too that afternoon. He saved me.”

“That’s so Tod,” Alex said with a nostalgic smile. “Saving a pretty girl? Yeah, that sounds exactly like him.”

Sam glanced at Alex, who kept smiling at the grave. If ghosts could cry, there would’ve been tears in his eyes.

“You really loved him,” Sam said, catching Alex’s attention. “I can recognize the look of love when I see it.”

“I—I didn’t, no… n-no,” Alex stammered, shaking his head. But Sam just smiled and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Relax,” Sam told him. “I don’t need everything to be about me, but… can we go to my grave now?”

“Lead the way, Sam,” Kim said.

Kimberly walked behind Sam, Alex at her side, until Sam stopped right in front of a headstone.

“Here I am,” Sam said, and they both stepped closer.

Samuel Lawton
July 29, 1974 — May 13, 2000

“Haha, Samuel,” Alex teased a little before Sam pinched him. “Ow—sorry.”

Kimberly took another flower and placed it on the grave, brushing away some of the dirt on top. It worried her—Sam’s grave was noticeably more neglected than Alex’s.

“My family was never really close,” Sam said, as if he had read her thoughts. “We loved each other, but we always kept our distance.”

Kim pretended to be satisfied with that answer, running her hand over the surface of the headstone to clear away dead leaves and grass before setting the flower down in a slightly tidier spot.

When Kimberly straightened up again, she saw Sam a few rows ahead, staring at another grave. Slowly, she walked over, reading the name on the stone.

“Molly Harper,” she read.

“She was my girlfriend… I was convinced she was the love of my life and that we’d get married in Paris,” Sam said softly. “But then we had to get on damn Flight 180.”

“I’m really sorry for what happened to you, Sam,” Kim said gently, laying another flower on Molly’s grave. “I’m sorry for what happened to both of you. No one deserves to die the way you did.”

“Thanks for your words, Kim,” Sam said, offering her a smile. “And I also wanted to apologize… for being such a pain those days.”

“I want to apologize too,” Alex spoke up, stepping forward. “Neither Sam nor I ever meant to bother you. It’s just… you’re the only person who can see us and hear us, so we just wanted some company.”

Kimberly listened, realizing that they really were just two men who had died tragically, brought back without explanation, unseen by anyone until she came along.

It was clear now: Sam and Alex were anxious, starving for someone to talk to again.

Kimberly was far too kind to ignore them.

“We just wanted to know if we had anything in common with you,” Alex finished, which made Kim smile.

“Well, we certainly do have something in common,” Kim said, starting to walk. “Come on.”

Kimberly led them further into the cemetery. They walked until she stopped at another grave, checking the name.

“Evan Lewis,” she said, pointing at the headstone and taking out a flower to place on it. “He died when a fire escape ladder pierced his eye.”

“Ouch,” Sam muttered under his breath. They kept walking until they reached a peculiar grave—one with three names carved into the stone.

“Tim Carpenter, crushed by a glass panel,” Kimberly said, placing down two roses. “And his mother, Nora Carpenter, decapitated by an elevator.”

“Shit, he was only fifteen,” Alex whispered, but Kimberly just kept walking.

“Kat Jennings—her head was impaled by a plastic pipe,” Kim said as they moved on to the next grave.

“Rory Peters—he was sliced through by a barbed-wire fence.” She placed another flower on the stone.

“Ugh,” Sam groaned.

“Cool,” Alex whispered.

“Eugene Dix,” she said, setting the next flower down. “He died in an explosion.”

“All the ones you couldn’t save,” Sam said quietly, and Kim nodded solemnly.

“Although it’s not all of them,” Kim whispered, glancing sideways at Alex. “There’s someone missing.”

After saying that, the three moved toward a new grave—Clear Rivers’. Kim crouched slightly to place the remaining flowers on the headstone, then straightened up to look at Alex.

“I really tried,” Kim said, tears falling again. “If only I hadn’t let her go… if only I had seen the signs… she would still be alive. I’m so sorry.”

“Kimberly, don’t apologize,” Alex quickly said, watching her cry. “Clear’s death hurts me… a lot. I don’t have the full story yet, but from what little I’ve come to know about you, I know you did everything you could to save her—just like she tried to save me. Death is a bitch, and sooner or later, it would have come for us. I tried to sacrifice myself to give life to Carter and Clear. You literally sacrificed yourself to save Thomas. That’s admirable, Kim. And I know that if you’d known earlier, you would have done it for everyone on the list. You’re braver than you think, Kimberly.”

“Very brave,” Sam added in support. “Don’t blame yourself for not saving anyone. I know that some of us… some of us just can’t be that brave.”

Kim didn’t answer. She allowed herself to cry a little longer. Sam and Alex stayed silent, standing with her, sharing in her grief.

“You know?” she spoke again. “I haven’t even been able to talk to Thomas about everything I feel. Something tells me that no matter how hard he tries, he wouldn’t understand.”

“But now you have two friends who do understand what you’ve been through,” Sam said.

“And anytime you need us, we’ll be there to listen, to talk with you,” Alex added.

“And even when you don’t need us, we’ll stay out of the way,” the eldest of the three finished.

Kimberly smiled, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. In fact, she felt good, hopeful even, because something they had said was true: Sam and Alex knew what she had lived through. They had lived it too, and now they were there with her, understanding, supporting her. She wouldn’t be alone in this anymore.

Now she had two ghost friends.

And strangely enough, that sounded really good.

Chapter Text

Who would have thought time could pass so quickly with two ghosts by your side?

In fact, the routine even became… fun at times.

“Kimberly, Kimberly,” Sam said from her right side. “The blouse you wanted—I saw a lady hide it on a toy shelf.”

“Lead me to it,” Kim whispered.

Using your ghost friends as a Black Friday shopping advantage? A million-dollar idea.

“I’ve never been to a mall on Black Friday. These people are insane,” Alex complained after two women fought over a waffle maker, then noticed Kim and Sam had already left without him. “Hey, wait for me!”

They were also good company in the kitchen—especially Sam.

“Now add some cumin, but just a little,” he instructed, and Kimberly followed his directions to the letter.

“Looks good,” Alex added from the other side. “If I were alive, I’d already have stuck my finger in it.”

At that comment, Sam laughed out loud, and Kimberly could barely hold back her own laughter.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Alex protested.

“I’m home!” Kimberly’s dad announced as he entered the house.

“Kitchen!” she called back, and within seconds he appeared in the doorway, moving toward the stove.

“Smells delicious,” he said, inhaling the aroma of Kim’s cooking. “I don’t know where you get these new recipes, but you’re really good at them.”

“I have my methods,” Kim replied, smiling at Sam, who winked at her in complicity.

Of course, she wished she could say that living together was always this pleasant… but the paranoia of a certain ghost made it impossible.

“But are you sure nothing strange happened that day?” Alex asked again.

And Kimberly was done.

“For the last time, Alex,” she replied wearily, “no. I didn’t have any dreams or visions on September 11th.”

Alex seemed to pick up on the tired tone in her voice.

“Fine,” he said, raising both hands in surrender. “Just curious.”

When he disappeared, Kim sighed in relief and returned to her work. Alex tended to be annoying—sometimes too conspiracy-theory obsessed, which drained her. Luckily, when Sam was around, he usually kept him in check…

“What if someone really saw it before it happened, but couldn’t stop it?” Alex asked one Sunday afternoon while the three of them rested outside.

“Alex, please, not now,” Kim said, irritated.

“But just think about it for a second,” he insisted.

Sam, who was behind him, had had enough. He raised a hand and tapped him on the back of the neck.

“Enough, Victorian anemic kid,” Sam scolded him.

“Stop calling me that!” Alex complained.

“Then stop acting like this—you’re wearing Kim out,” Sam shot back, giving him another tap, this time on the shoulder.

Alex fell silent, wearing the expression of a scolded child.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, looking at Kimberly. She gave him a soft smile in return.

While she noticed her relationship with both of them improving day by day, Kim also saw how their dynamic was shifting. Even though they still argued, Sam was already treating Alex like a younger brother, and Alex, little by little, seemed to accept him as a sort of ghostly older brother.

It was funny… and, in a way, tender to watch.

Back to Alex’s paranoia… Sometimes it was a little justified.

The idea of a weekend ferry trip before Christmas sounded great on paper, but once on board—once the ferry left the station—the brief flicker of fear began.

The ferry was more crowded than expected. Families in thick coats, scarves like comets in the cold breeze, couples taking photos against a backdrop of Christmas lights. At the bow, voices mixed with the soft metallic hum of the engine and the distant cry of a seagull. Festive garlands and hot chocolate stands inside smelled of cinnamon and cloves, and in the air floated that deceptive calm that precedes anything unexpected.

Kim leaned against the railing, letting the wind mess up her hair. Thomas had assured her everything would be fine; he’d gone to get two cups of hot chocolate and promised to be back in a few minutes. She stared at the horizon, the city merging with the partly cloudy sky, and the black water lapping against the ship’s edge with a steady, almost drowsy sound.

“The view’s pretty,” she whispered—mostly to convince herself. “It’s like a postcard.”

Next to her, Alex didn’t answer. His gaze scanned the hull, the deck, the people. The way he furrowed his brow was no longer just curiosity: it was vigilance. Sam, on the other hand, had curled himself up invisibly against Kim’s coat, muttering the occasional sarcastic comment about the ugly sweaters he saw.

“I really don’t like this,” Alex repeated, eyes fixed on a spot between the deck and the engine. “I don’t like it at all.”

Sam gave him a look from his place, a little mocking at first, but the smile eventually faded from his face.

“Normally I’d smack the knock-off Casper,” he began, looking at Kim, then at Alex. “But this time, I’m with you.”

Kim smiled faintly and gripped the railing. The cold metal echoed against her touch, and under the paint small rust marks showed through. She looked around: a child ran too close to the edge while his mother wasn’t watching; a rope lay poorly coiled next to a rusty lock; a group of people laughed too easily. Little details, insignificant on their own; together, something that tightened her stomach.

“What do you see?” she asked Alex softly.

He tilted his chin toward the side of the ferry, where a string of Christmas lights hung loose near a metal hatch. One of the brackets was bent; a bulb flickered at an irregular rhythm. Lower down, a hatch with chipped paint showed a strip of bent metal.

“The latch on that hatch isn’t secured,” Alex said. “If there are strong vibrations…”

Sam tried to laugh, but without humor.

“Always with the hatches. Can’t you pick something else to obsess over?”

“It’s not obsession,” Alex shot back. “It’s observation. Listen: the stair mechanism is loose—look at those hinges. If something gives, the chain could catch on the railing.”

Kim felt her chest jolt. It was the same feeling that had shaken her on other occasions: a fixed thread starting to vibrate, a high possibility turning into certainty through intuition. She brought her hand to her neck, trying to calm herself.

“Alex, please, be quiet. You’re scaring her,” Sam scolded.

Luckily, Thomas appeared at that moment, just as he had promised Kimberly, carrying two disposable cups and a small paper bag. He approached casually, glanced around, and smiled at his girlfriend.

“All good?” Thomas asked, not noticing Kim’s tension.

“Yes,” Kim said, smiling at the calm Thomas radiated. “It’s just Alex being paranoid, as usual.”

Thomas laughed, unconcerned.

“It’s just a ride, Alex. Nothing to worry about,” Thomas said to the air. Just because Thomas couldn’t see or hear the ghosts didn’t mean he wouldn’t speak to them when he knew they were around.

Kim could finally feel at ease, at least a little.

Then, without anyone fully noticing, a gust of wind stronger than the others rocked the ferry; a metallic whistle ran across the deck. The flickering bulb exploded with a sharp snap, sending a tiny shower of glass over the nearby people. No one was hurt, but the shock caused the child who had run toward the edge to slip on a puddle left by the light snowfall from a few hours earlier, losing his balance.

Sam reacted in the blink of an eye, moving even closer to Alex.

“I think we should stay away from the edge, don’t you?” he suggested nervously.

Alex started nodding quickly, letting his right arm brush against Sam’s left. Thomas had taken a moment to understand what was happening and now looked at Kim.

Kim took a deep breath and started stepping back, searching for a bench to sit down and release her tension. Thomas didn’t hesitate to follow, sitting beside her.

“Hey, Kim, it’s okay,” Thomas said, taking her free hand and gently squeezing it. “Breathe, alright? Let’s go. Inhale… exhale…”

Kim began to follow his guidance, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth.

“That’s it,” Thomas continued, letting his voice be a beacon for Kim’s clouded mind. He stayed with her until she managed to calm down. “Better?”

“A little,” she replied, pressing Thomas’s hand back.

“Listen, Kim,” Thomas spoke again. “I know I can’t fully understand how you feel, because, even though we’ve both gone through traumatic events, I didn’t witness everything you did. But I want you to know that you’ll always have me here, with you, by your side, listening, comforting, loving you. Even though you have Sam and Alex to understand you, I want you to come to me if something feels wrong, if you start feeling bad—I’ll do everything I can to help.”

Kimberly smiled and nodded, leaning slightly against Thomas.

Seeing this, Sam nudged Alex with his shoulder.

“That’s our cue. Let’s go,” Sam whispered, and slowly they began walking away, moving carefully across the ferry.

Because yes, through good times and bad, that pair would always be with her. Fortunately, it was almost always during the good times.

“Corman, Kimberly.”

The announcer’s voice rang clearly through the auditorium, and Kimberly, heart racing, began walking toward the stage. Applause filled the room, bouncing off the walls and thundering in her chest as she climbed the steps.

Her teacher waited at the front with a wide, proud smile, extending the diploma. Kimberly took it with steady hands, though she felt the slight tremor of excitement. She lifted her gaze and there they were: her father, in the front row, awkwardly holding a camera, capturing every moment; Thomas, grinning from ear to ear.

And, as always, a little further back but impossible to ignore, Sam and Alex. They didn’t clap like the others—they cheered fervently, as if they were the only ones capable of screaming loudly enough for the echo to reach the other side.

Kim couldn’t help but laugh. For a moment, the weight of everything she had lived through eased.

Later, at the Corman house, a small, intimate celebration took place to mark Kimberly’s college graduation. There were balloons in gold and white tones, plates of snacks, soft music in the background, and, above all, plenty of smiles. Everyone was happy that she had finally graduated, and the overall vibe was positive.

However, among the laughter and congratulations, two ghostly presences watched attentively from outside.

“Thomas is really nervous,” Sam whispered, arms crossed and back leaning against the wall, right next to the dining room window.

Curious, Alex leaned a little closer to look inside. There was Thomas, in the middle of the group, rubbing his hands insistently, as if trying to calm a tremor.

“Hmm… you’re right. He looks like he’s dying of nerves,” Alex commented, frowning.

The cold night air wrapped around them, and it was strange to see them so quiet. They could pass through walls and walk among the living whenever they wanted, but they preferred to stay apart. There were too many people inside, too much noise, and sometimes it was awkward to converse with each other with so many unseen eyes around. So they stayed outside, peering through the window.

“I haven’t seen him this nervous since…” Sam began, with a mischievous smile, but his words stopped abruptly when he noticed Thomas’s movement. “Since he asked Kim about living together—”

“Wait a second…” Alex’s eyes widened in surprise.

Inside the room, Thomas had approached Kimberly. The murmurs of the guests gradually fell silent as he, with a determined yet trembling gesture, knelt before her. From his pocket, he pulled out a small black box.

“No way…” Alex whispered, incredulous.

“He’s proposing!” Sam exclaimed, eyes glued to the scene.

The air inside the room changed immediately: everyone began whispering excitedly, some even placing their hands over their chests. Kimberly, holding her breath, looked at the open box and then at Thomas, who could barely hold her gaze.

The seconds stretched endlessly. Neither Sam nor Alex breathed, though they no longer needed to. Until finally, Kim nodded, tears in her eyes. The room erupted in applause.

Thomas, hands trembling, slid the ring onto Kimberly’s ring finger.

“She said yes!” Alex shouted, jumping for joy and almost hitting the window frame.

Sam smiled sideways and shook his head, though a laugh escaped him.

“I thought he’d never dare,” Sam joked, just as happy as Alex.

And finally, in December, Kimberly stood before the mirror, looking at her reflection, seeing her beautiful white dress, her hair perfectly styled, her veil perfectly placed. Everything was perfect after her aunt had helped her get ready.

“You look beautiful.”

Kimberly smiled and turned halfway to see Alex and Sam standing before her. Both were smiling, inexplicably dressed in elegant suits.

“Where did you get the suits?” Kimberly asked.

“We borrowed them from the cemetery,” Alex replied with a smile, and Kimberly raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, the old ghost in the basement across from where you and Thomas live told us we could get clothes from corpses. It’s like ‘ghost clothes,’” Sam explained. “She also said I can move things now because I’ve been dead longer.”

Then Sam reached toward Kimberly’s thermos that she had left on the coffee table and, after some effort, managed to push it a few inches.

“Here you go, Beetlejuice.”

Kimberly laughed, covering her mouth with her hands to avoid unwanted attention.

“You guys are idiots,” she said through her laughter, though her eyes were glistening. “But… really, thank you for being here with me.”

Sam lifted his chin proudly, adjusting his jacket.

“And miss your big day? Not in a million deaths.”

Alex nodded, though with a hint of nervousness that made him fidget.

“Yeah, though I admit it’s weird. I always imagined being at a wedding… but not exactly as a ghost invisible to the rest of the party.”

“Bah, don’t complain,” Sam pushed him on the shoulder. “We’ve got the best seats. And no one tells us what to eat, how to dress, or whether we sit on the bride’s side or the groom’s side.”

Kim gave them a tender look, as if she wanted to imprint the image in her mind forever. She knew no one else could see them—that to everyone in the church, she was completely alone—but for her, there was nothing more real than the presence of these two.

“I love you guys,” Kimberly whispered, drawing their attention. “If someone had told me two years ago that two ghosts would become my best friends, I wouldn’t have believed it—but here you are, and I’m so grateful.”

Sam and Alex looked at each other, and without saying it aloud, both seemed to reach the same conclusion: even though they no longer belonged to the world of the living, they would always belong to Kimberly’s world.

“We love you too, Kim,” Alex said, and Sam nodded beside him.

A few taps at the door made her react.

“Kim, it’s time,” her aunt’s voice called from the hallway.

She carefully wiped away the tears forming in her eyes, took a deep breath, and looked at her two ghosts.

“All right, that’s my signal. It’s time.”

“We’ll see you there,” Sam winked before disappearing. Alex gave her a thumbs-up in her direction and vanished as well.

Kimberly was slowly escorted down the aisle by her father, taking slow steps along the church walkway. At the front, she saw Thomas, in a black suit, smiling with tears in his eyes as he watched her.

Her father handed her over at the altar, offering Thomas some words about giving him his little girl and hoping they would be together for the rest of their lives.

Kimberly settled in place, glancing to her left, noticing that alongside her bridesmaids, two smiling ghosts were present.

About eleven months after the wedding, on the eve of Thanksgiving, Kimberly woke up for the fourth morning in a row, vomiting in the bathroom of her new home with Thomas.

Thomas, as always, left for work very early, and Kimberly wouldn’t be long before heading to hers, but the vomiting had her trapped in the bathroom.

"Are you sure you didn’t eat something that made you sick?" Sam asked, sitting in the bathtub, watching Kim wipe her mouth with a piece of toilet paper.

“Very sure,” Kim replied, taking a deep breath. “It’s probably an infection.”

“You’ve had nausea for too many days, Kim. I’m worried,” the older ghost continued.

Alex, who was more observant than Sam, was also in the bathroom, but he was looking at everything except Kimberly.

“Uh… Kim,” Alex spoke. “I think I’m going to ask an inappropriate question.”

Kimberly, still kneeling beside the toilet, slowly turned her head toward Alex with a frown.

“What kind of question?”

Alex stopped looking at Kimberly’s box of feminine hygiene products—something she had forbidden them from snooping through—but he noticed something he shouldn’t have noticed, yet again, he is very observant.

“When was the last time you had your period?” Alex asked, leaving the bathroom in a heavy silence.

Kimberly replayed those words in her mind, then opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

“Oh my God…” she muttered.

An hour later, Sam and Alex were in the couple’s bedroom, waiting.

“I feel like I’m going to get old here,” Sam said.

“More?” Alex asked, smiling playfully, but Sam punched him in the abdomen.

“Idiot,” he whispered.

Fortunately, the bathroom door opened, and Kimberly came out holding a pregnancy test.

“Well?” Alex asked.

“It’s positive,” Kimberly replied, beginning to smile. “I’m pregnant!”

Immediately, the two ghosts started celebrating alongside Kimberly. They shared in her euphoria.

“We’re going to be ghost uncles!” Alex shouted excitedly.

“I’ll have to tell Thomas…” Kimberly said softly. “Our anniversary is in two weeks.”

“I can’t imagine a better gift,” Sam told her, cheering her on.

“You’ll have to come up with a great recipe for that day,” Kim said.

This moment marked a turning point for Kimberly. She was starting to form her own family: a husband, a child… two ghosts. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a normal family, but it would certainly be a very close one.

And when Thomas found out, he fainted in the dining room.

When her father found out on New Year’s, he choked on his turkey leg.

Sam teased her, saying she shouldn’t be killing the father figures of her future child so soon.

By the following May, Kim was in her eighth month of pregnancy. Being so close to giving birth, Kimberly seemed to have an uncontrollable sleepiness. She would doze off from time to time.

Like now, when Kim had fallen asleep watching television, a low-budget horror movie from twenty years ago. Alex and Sam stayed watching the movie until it ended, then it was replaced by the news.

“We begin this segment with some bad news from Pennsylvania,” the anchorwoman started. “An hour ago, news was reported about a terrible accident at McKinley Park amusement park in the town of McKinley. The Devil’s Fight roller coaster suffered an accident in which the ride’s cars derailed, causing the deaths of twelve teenagers, all students from the local high school who were there for a graduation trip.”

For some reason, that news made Alex and Sam feel something strange in their backs.

“The causes of the accident are still unknown,” the woman explained. “Additionally, some witnesses claim that before the accident, several passengers got off the ride because one of them insisted that the cars were going to derail due to some kind of vision.”

At that moment, Alex and Sam turned to look at each other, their silence broken only by Kimberly’s soft snores.

“Sam…” Alex began. “Do you think that…”

“I don’t know,” Sam replied immediately, crossing his arms. “But it’s better if we don’t say anything about this.”

“But…”

“Alex, Kimberly is about to give birth. We can’t stress her out,” Sam said firmly. “So not a word about this. For now, this isn’t a premonition—just a terrible accident.”

“For now…” Alex whispered.

“Shut up,” the elder replied.

On June 24, 2005, at eleven forty-three at night, Kimberly was in the hospital delivery room. Sam and Alex were in the waiting room with Kimberly’s father. Thomas had entered with Kimberly for the birth of their first child.

And they were very anxious.

“I’m way too nervous. I never thought I’d be this nervous for the birth of a child that isn’t even mine,” Alex said, fidgeting with his hands.

“Didn’t you ever think about having kids?” Sam asked.

“I was seventeen when death started haunting me, so I didn’t have time for that,” Alex replied. “I feel like time is passing so slowly.”

“So slowly that I didn’t even notice the hour,” Sam said, looking at the wall clock. “It’s almost midnight… oh crap.”

“Almost midnight!?” Alex asked, alarmed.

“Don’t you think they’ll make us go there… or do they?” Sam asked.

What worried them both was the end of their nightly freedom. They hadn’t figured out why, but whenever it struck midnight, Sam and Alex couldn’t be far from Kimberly—literally, they couldn’t. If they weren’t in the same room as Kimberly by midnight, something would make them appear with her.

“I don’t want to witness a birth. I’m too young to see something like that,” Alex complained.

“We have five minutes left. Maybe by then, everything will be settled,” Sam suggested.

But, to their misfortune, when the clock struck midnight, both felt a tug in their stomachs, and something pulled them—they disappeared from the waiting room and suddenly were inside the delivery room.

“I hate this,” Sam complained, looking around him, seeing Kimberly in the middle of the room, surrounded by nurses, a doctor, and Thomas holding her hand. “Alex?”

Then a scream from Kimberly merged with a scream from Alex, who had appeared right between Kim’s legs and threw himself to the floor, covering his eyes.

“I shouldn’t have seen that!” Alex shouted. “My little pretty eyes!”

Sam rolled his eyes and approached Alex, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him across the floor to the edge of the room, letting him go there.

“Stop overreacting, kid. It’s not like you’ve never seen a vagina before,” Sam said, crossing his arms.

“Come on, Kim, you can do this,” Thomas encouraged as his wife continued in labor.

“I can see the head,” the doctor said. “Push, Kimberly, push.”

Kim let out another scream as she strained to get everything out… and then her scream merged with a powerful cry.

“It’s out,” the doctor announced, as Kim could finally rest a little, leaning back on the delivery bed. “It’s a boy.”

After cleaning the baby, the nurses brought him to Kim and Thomas, wrapped in a blue blanket, letting them hold him.

“Hello, little one,” Kimberly said, looking at her newborn as Thomas let a few tears fall.

“Have you thought of a name?” the nurse asked, and the married couple nodded.

“Rory,” Kim said, looking at the baby. “Rory Burke.”

Alex and Sam smiled from their spots, briefly noticed by Kim.

Kimberly felt so happy now. She had a husband, a son, and two close friends.

Finally, she could live in peace.

But knowing that her life had been far from normal for years, it was obvious that “peaceful” was the last thing her life was ever going to be.

Chapter Text

“Time for bed, Rory,” Kim said, carrying her son to the crib and gently lowering him onto the mattress.

Little Rory, almost six months old, was a calm baby. He only cried when necessary, didn’t move much when placed on a surface, but loved to babble loudly.

Alex loved watching him, especially now that Rory had started crawling on his own. As mentioned before, he didn’t move around much—but when he wanted to, he crawled as if his life depended on it. Alex found it entertaining to watch, which was actually helpful when Kimberly needed to do something else.

Sam, on the other hand, was more passive. He watched the baby, but unlike Alex, he didn’t actively try to interact with him—perhaps because he knew the baby wouldn’t notice him anyway. Still, that didn’t stop Sam from caring for his little nephew.

Kim bent over, gently placing her son in the crib. As she straightened up, still looking down, she noticed Rory reaching out with his hands.

“Want your mobile, Rory?” Sam asked with a smile.

The crib mobile was simple but adorable: a little bear lying on a crescent moon surrounded by stars, and it only needed a small tap to start working.

“Oh, Kim, can I turn it on?” Alex asked, looking across the crib at her.

“Of course.”

Alex had only known for a few weeks that he could also move objects, but not as easily as Sam. For some reason, Sam found it much easier to manipulate things. Neither knew why.

The teenage ghost looked at the mobile, reached out, focused, and tried to touch it—but his hand passed right through. He muttered a curse under his breath and tried again, failing once more.

“Come on, I already did this this morning,” Alex whispered, closing his eyes to concentrate harder. He raised his hand and gave the mobile a little push.

This time it worked. The mobile wobbled just enough to turn on, playing its lullaby and starting to move.

Rory made a noise of approval, catching Alex’s attention, and he leaned over the crib.

“You like this, don’t you, Rory?” Alex asked, expecting no response—but to his surprise, Rory stopped looking at the mobile.

The baby had paused his babbling and shifted his gaze. Instead of the mobile, his bright little eyes were fixed on a point across the room—specifically, where Alex was standing.

Alex was taken aback and tried to step to the side, but Rory’s gaze followed him. Kimberly also noticed, her eyes moving between Rory and Alex.

“Is he… looking at me?” Alex finally asked.

“I think so,” she said, leaning closer to get a better view.

Alex lifted his hand toward the baby, pointing his index finger just to see if Rory would follow. The baby’s eyes tracked him.

“He is looking at me,” Alex confirmed. “How… how can he see me?”

“Babies can see things others can’t.”

The sudden appearance of Sam startled both of them, and they turned to look at him. He immediately began speaking again to explain.

“Some people believe that newborn babies are closer to the spiritual world than adults, so it’s said they can see things others can’t,” Sam finished, leaning over the crib. “Or at least, that’s what my mom used to tell me and my brother.”

“Cool,” Alex smiled. “Hi, Rory, I’m your uncle Alex, and the old guy next to me is your Uncle Samuel.”

“Don’t call me Samuel, Theodore,” Sam replied, mock-offended.

“Guys, better let the baby sleep, it’s getting late,” Kim told them as Rory yawned.

Kim guided the two ghosts out of the room, then turned off the light and left the door slightly open before heading to her own bedroom.

“Goodnight, Kim,” Sam called from the hallway.

“See you tomorrow,” she answered, walking toward the room alone. Thomas had a double shift, so she would spend the whole night by herself.

But it wasn’t like it bothered her. There wasn’t much to worry about anymore.

Nightmares were no longer common—maybe an occasional one, the usual kind: falling from a building, spiders, the typical stuff. They were no longer the vivid nightmares she used to have after her premonitions, nor the ones that haunted her before Sam and Alex appeared.

But that night, the horrible nightmares returned.

It began with her feeling the cold of the night—a chill that crept under her skin and froze her bones. The breeze brushed against her face softly; it might have been pleasant if it weren’t for the icy atmosphere. Then she began to move—but not her legs. She was seated, her chest pressed against something, and then she realized… she was on a roller coaster.

The car she was in began descending at full speed, the wind slapping her face as it raced along the track.

She had been on rides like this before, but this time something felt wrong. The fear wasn’t excitement or adrenaline. It was pure, real fear, one that wouldn’t let her rest.

The car approached a sharp turn, and at the highest point, it stopped. Kimberly was upside down, suspended in the air. Blood rushed to her head, her ears ringing. Looking down… or was it up? She saw the ground, so far below it seemed to mock her. The fall would be endless… and fatal.

The metallic click of the restraints unlocking broke the silence. The harness rattled against her chest as it gave way, and she slipped out of the car, gripping the straps with both hands. Sweat streamed down her forehead as she fought to hold on.

And then she saw them. Four figures hung ahead of her, just like her, struggling against gravity. But they had no faces—just silhouettes with hair and clothing in different colors.

“Erin!” someone shouted behind her, a female voice. “Erin, don’t let go!”

Kim tried to look at them, only to get the unpleasant surprise that they were faceless.

She saw one with black hair fall, then a redhead next to them, followed by someone pink-haired, and finally a blue-haired figure. That’s when she felt her hands begin to tire, losing strength.

She was slipping, barely able to hold on.

But it was a dream… no one dies in a dream, right?

She looked down, seeing corpses on the ground, and after swallowing hard, she let go, letting herself fall. She screamed as she plummeted and landed hard—but the scene had changed.

She was no longer outside. She was indoors, in a place that was dark, warm, and unsettling.

She saw that she was still on tracks, but these were train tracks. Looking back, she froze in horror at a derailed train filled with corpses.

She tried to move, but an excruciating pain shot through her legs. Looking down, she saw her legs, bloodied and broken. She couldn’t move, and panic surged through her.

A vibration in the ground caught her attention, then a light appeared ahead, followed by the deafening roar of another train rushing toward her.

The train approached at full speed, and she was directly in its path—immobile, with no chance of survival.

She screamed as the train barreled toward her.

And then she woke up, screaming, gripped by panic, still feeling gravel in her hands, pain burning in her legs, and an immense pressure on her chest.

She sat up quickly, still screaming, and moved back until her spine hit the headboard of the bed.

“Kimberly!”

“Kim!”

Her eyes opened, and she realized she was in her room, in her bed, in her apartment.

“Kim, are you okay?” Alex’s voice was the first she could register, and she shook her head.

“That was a horrible nightmare,” Kim told them, trying to catch her breath.

Once she could regulate her breathing, she reached for her nightstand, grabbed a glass of water, and took a long drink.

“Better?” Sam asked, and she nodded.

“Yes…” Kimberly replied, leaning back against the headboard.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alex asked.

“It was… awful,” she said, swallowing. “I was on a roller coaster, fell off, and then I was on subway tracks with a train coming straight for me.”

“I say don’t eat anything heavy before bed anymore,” Sam joked. “It makes you dream weird stuff.”

There was a deep silence from Kimberly before she spoke again.

“What scares me… is that this nightmare felt just like the ones I had before I saw you two.”

Kimberly’s words made both ghosts fall silent. She hadn’t told them that before.

They knew that before their meeting, Kim suffered from nightmares, but not that they were connected to them.

“When you appeared, I dreamed I was on the bridge when it collapsed—I felt the wind, the ground breaking beneath my feet—and then on the plane, I felt the turbulence and the heat from the fire on my skin,” Kim recounted. “This nightmare felt the same…”

At that moment, Kim felt a breeze brush the back of her neck, and her hair shifted. She straightened up, then looked at Sam and Alex, who had turned toward the door.

“There’s someone in the house,” Sam said.

Kimberly immediately stood up, alert at Sam’s words.

“Rory,” Kim whispered.

“Go to the baby’s room, we’ll check it out,” Alex said. Kim nodded, walking slowly to the door and opening it as cautiously as possible.

Alex and Sam had already passed through the wall into the hallway.

“It’s clear,” Alex said, giving Kim the green light to step into the hallway and move quickly toward Rory’s room, while he and Sam drifted toward the living room.

Kimberly opened the door to her son’s room, looked at the crib, and was about to step in—but then she saw a dark figure on the floor, near the crib.

Kim froze in fear for a second, taking a step back.

The figure was there, motionless on the floor. Then it made a jerky movement, lifting itself slightly with its hands.

It shifted a little, as if looking around.

“What?” the figure asked, and Kim could tell it was a female voice.

Kim slowly stepped into the room, her hand moving toward the light switch on the wall. She flipped it on immediately, startling the girl, who turned on the floor, frightened.

They stared at each other for a second before the girl started backing away on the floor.

“Who are you?” both of them asked, but the girl kept moving back until she reached the wall—except instead of bumping into it, she began to pass right through it.

The girl screamed, rolling a little across the floor.

That scream was enough of a warning, and both ghosts appeared in the room.

“What’s going on!?” Alex shouted.

“Get out, intruder!” Sam yelled as well.

“Who are you?” the girl asked.

“Did she say ‘who’?” Alex asked his friends, then turned back to the girl. “Can you see us?”

The girl looked at them, confused.

“What kind of question is that?” she asked.

“Yes, she can see us,” Alex confirmed.

“I’ll handle this,” Kimberly said, stepping between Alex and Sam and approaching the girl.

“Hi, I’m Kimberly,” she said in her calmest tone, crouching slightly. “Can I know your name?”

The girl seemed to think for a moment, but finally she sat down on the floor, knees pulled to her chest, as if trying to put some distance between herself and the others.

“My name is Wendy,” she said at last.

“Wendy, nice to meet you,” Kim said, giving her a slight smile. “I know you must be very confused about what’s happening.”

“Where am I?” Wendy interrupted with her question.

“You’re in my house,” Kim replied. “I need you to tell me the last thing you remember.”

Wendy’s face was still doubtful, until her expression began to change.

“I… I-I was on the subway when…” Wendy started, her voice trembling. “The train derailed and I ended up on the tracks, and then…”

“Another train hit you?” Kim asked, and Wendy went completely silent.

“You’re dead,” Sam said loudly, and Alex nudged him in the side.

“Don’t be an idiot, Sam,” Alex said.

“Dead?” Wendy asked.

Before anyone could speak again, Rory’s cry broke the brief silence, drawing everyone’s attention.

Kimberly didn’t say much more and moved toward the crib.

“Hey,” Sam called out to Wendy. “The baby needs to be fed. You can come with us to the living room.”

Wendy didn’t move at first, but Kimberly looked at her while holding little Rory.

“They’re harmless, don’t worry,” she reassured her. Slowly, Wendy got up from the floor and began to follow Sam and Alex, still very confused by the situation and clearly distrustful.

Wendy moved cautiously, step by step, following the path Sam and Alex were guiding her along, leaving the baby’s room and entering the hallway where the two boys seemed to be waiting for her.

Step by step, she followed them down the stairs. Wendy took in her surroundings: a family home, light-colored walls, and only a few photos hanging. Well, looking at the baby, it made sense—they seemed to be a young couple, which explained the lack of family photographs.

When she reached the ground floor, still shrouded in darkness, Wendy saw the two men in the living room, sitting on the couch. She paused at the threshold, hesitant.

“If I’m really dead, how can you see me?” she asked cautiously.

“Because we’re dead too,” Alex replied. Wendy froze mid-step, and Alex continued talking.

“I died four years ago… a hard blow to the head.”

“A brick cracked his skull,” Sam joked lightly, chuckling. “I died in a plane explosion five years ago. Have you heard of Flight 180?”

“Who hasn’t?” Wendy replied almost immediately.

“Well, that’s where I died,” Sam said, settling onto the couch, and Wendy was finally surprised that she didn’t pass right through it like she had with the wall.

Wendy took a step toward the single-seat armchair, but Alex’s voice stopped her.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” he warned. “You’re a very recent ghost; you still don’t know how to focus your energy to be tangible. If you try, you’ll pass right through the sofa.”

“Oh…” Wendy looked down and decided to remain standing.

Alex and Sam exchanged a glance during the brief silence. Then Alex made a small gesture toward her, and Sam nodded.

“So, Wendy,” Sam began, “I don’t want to be reckless… well, maybe a little. But let’s say it’s a way to see if we’re connected by more than Kimberly being able to see us. Tell us… didn’t you have any premonitions before you died? Something about a tragic accident that followed you to the end of your life?”

“You’re an idiot,” Alex muttered.

Still, Wendy answered.

“Why do you ask that?” she frowned.

“Have you heard of the North Bay bridge collapse?” Sam asked, not waiting for an answer. “I had a premonition before it happened. And the guy who looks anemic”—he nodded toward Alex—“saw the Flight 180 explosion.”

“What?” Wendy exclaimed, looking at Alex. “You were that boy?”

“Of course, everyone knows the SpongeBob-faced kid,” Sam whispered, looking at Wendy and then Alex. “Did you also investigate the flight?”

“Not exactly me,” Wendy replied.

“Rory fell asleep again,” Kimberly said, appearing at the doorway of the living room.

Kim stepped further into the room, approaching Wendy calmly, trying to show her trust.

“I see you’re starting to chat with Sam and Alex,” she said.

“Something like that,” Wendy nodded, looking at Kimberly, studying her with doubt before speaking. “I guess you’re alive.”

“I am, yes,” Kim nodded. “And before you ask, we still don’t know why only I can see them.”

Wendy fell silent, pondering Kim’s words. But Sam took the opportunity to speak.

“Kim,” Sam called her attention, “she’s a visionary too.”

“A visionary?” Wendy asked, glancing at Kim.

“It’s what Alex insists on calling us,” Sam said, pointing at Alex with his thumb. “I already told you: Alex and I had visions of accidents before they happened.”

Wendy then looked at Kim.

“You…” Wendy started, and Kim nodded.

“Four years ago I had a vision of a pile-up on a highway where my friends and I were going to die,” Kimberly explained. “Then, when I managed to save some people from the accident… they started dying one by one. From what Sam told me, you went through something similar too.”

Wendy nodded slowly.

“Months ago, on a graduation trip, I saw how the roller coaster was going to derail,” Wendy began to explain. “I lost my boyfriend there because I couldn’t save him, and then everyone died.”

“I know how hard it is to go through that,” Kim said, showing her most empathetic side. “Can I ask… did you die in a subway accident?”

“How do you know?” Wendy asked, surprised.

“I dreamed about it before you showed up at my house,” Kim replied. “It was the same before I started seeing Sam and Alex. I had nightmares about their accidents and deaths… then I just started seeing them.”

“And we’re still looking for an answer,” Alex said, standing up and approaching Wendy. They were about the same age, and for a moment, he thought that might mean something—as if they could connect through that.

“This is… this is too much,” Wendy shook her head, stepping back. “I thought it would all stop. I thought I was going to survive… Julie and Kevin… No, this can’t be happening. This mustn’t be happening.”

Kimberly noticed immediately that Wendy was starting to panic.

“Wendy, calm down,” Kim tried to say.

“I think I can’t breathe…” Wendy admitted.

“Well, that’s normal,” Sam approached slowly. “Ghosts don’t breathe.”

Alex was about to make a rude comment to Sam, but Kim stopped him, noticing Wendy go quiet, thinking over Sam’s words, and finally calming down.

“Oh God… I’m not breathing,” Wendy realized, looking at her hands, bringing them to her chest, then staring off into nothingness. “My heart isn’t beating…”

“Initial shock. We went through it too… It was a little worse for us because no one could see us,” Sam explained, shrugging. “Don’t worry, we’ll be here to help you.”

“Can I ask who Julie and Kevin are?” Alex broke the brief silence with his question. Wendy closed her mouth, looking sad.

“My sister and my… best friend, I guess,” Wendy answered.

“You ‘guess’?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“It was complicated, okay?” she said, but quickly composed herself. “They were on the train with me too… Wait, could you see them?”

Wendy immediately looked at Kim, seeking answers.

“I’m sorry, but no,” Kim shook her head. “My gift of seeing ghosts only works with people who had visions, so I couldn’t see them no matter how much I wanted to. Believe me, I’ve tried… with others.”

Wendy took a deep breath, though she didn’t feel her chest move or air entering her nostrils. Her eyes stayed fixed on Kim, as if searching for a miracle that wouldn’t come.

“So… does that mean I’ll never see them again?” Wendy asked in a thin, trembling voice.

“I’m sorry, but no,” Kim replied softly. “We still don’t fully understand it, but our theory is that the fact that all of you saw an accident before it happened is what allows me to see you.”

Wendy closed her eyes, beginning to cry, and Kimberly felt a shiver run down her spine. She was about to ask something when…

“Sam, why are you crying?” Alex asked, looking at Sam.

“What? I’m not…” Sam brought a hand to his face, feeling something wet running down his cheeks. “Crying…”

Sam looked at Alex.

“You’re crying too, Alex,” Sam said.

Kimberly frowned, but as soon as she did, she immediately felt tears gather in her eyes, and when she blinked, they began to fall down her cheeks.

She was crying. Why was she crying?

Kimberly looked at Wendy, who was still crying silently, tears streaming endlessly from her eyes.

“Wendy…” Kim spoke, calling the girl’s attention. “You’re making us cry.”

“What?” Wendy asked, looking at the three of them. She stopped crying, and the others’ tears ceased instantly.

“Wow…” Alex said once his tears stopped flowing. “How did you do that?”

“I have no idea… did I do that?” Wendy asked, confused.

“This is strange, it’s like your crying made us feel the same thing,” Sam said, wiping the rest of his tears.

Wendy stayed silent, blinking as she tried to understand what had just happened. Her hands still trembled slightly, and the air in the room felt denser, charged with something she couldn’t name.

“It’s… weird,” Wendy whispered. “I don’t feel like I did anything… I just started crying.”

“It’s not something we’ve seen before,” Kim said, watching her closely. “By any chance… did you die crying?”

“Can you stop asking invasive questions?” Alex asked, rubbing his eyes, still with traces of tears drying on his cheeks.

“Yes, yes, I was crying,” Wendy replied quickly. “Why?”

“Maybe it has to do with that,” Sam shrugged. “I have a lot of questions right now.”

“Me too,” Alex nodded.

“And me,” Wendy added.

“Believe me, I do too, but unlike you, I need to sleep,” Kimberly said, looking at the ghosts and then at the clock on the wall. “It’s very late.”

“Go get some rest. We’ll stay with Wendy,” Sam said, offering her a reassuring smile.

“You’ll be okay with that, Wendy?” Kim asked, looking at the newcomer.

“Yes… yes, I think so,” Wendy nodded slightly.

“All right, we’ll talk in the morning,” Kimberly said, saying goodbye as she went up the stairs.

The rest of the house fell silent, leaving three ghosts in the living room, feeling an almost tangible sense of discomfort.

“So…” Sam began, “Wendy, how old are you?”

“Ew, Sam,” Alex complained, and Wendy frowned.

“I don’t mean it like that, flea-face!” Sam raised his voice, giving Alex a light smack. “Don’t take it the wrong way, Wendy. It’s a genuine question, no double meaning.”

“I’m eighteen,” Wendy answered.

“Oh, look, Alex, conveniently she’s your age,” Sam said with a smile at Alex and then, just like that, disappeared, startling Wendy.

“Where did he go?”

“Probably the kitchen. After midnight we can’t be far from Kimberly, so we’re tied to her proximity until sunrise,” Alex explained.

“Tied?” she asked.

“It’s weird. Sorry, I don’t have many answers, but it’s complicated to find them when you’re dead,” he shrugged. “But at least I can show you the things we can do.”

“And what can we do?” Wendy asked.

“Well, to start, Kimberly’s husband, Thomas Burke,” Alex walked to the wall with photos, pointing at one from their wedding. “He knows Kimberly sees ghosts. He knows Sam and I exist. He’s a cop, on a 24-hour shift today. He’ll be back early tomorrow, and maybe Kimberly will tell him about you.”

Wendy nodded silently, studying the photograph. They looked like a happy couple. Then her gaze shifted to another piece of furniture in the living room, frowning at another photo.

“You two are in that picture,” Wendy said.

The photograph was also from the wedding. Kimberly was stunning in her wedding dress, and Thomas wore an elegant suit. Both were standing in the studio in front of two velvet chairs, slightly embracing.

But what stood out even more was that Alex and Sam appeared in the chairs behind them. Sitting, smiling at the camera as if part of the family portrait.

“Yes, I love that photo,” Alex moved a little closer.

“How come you’re in the picture?”

“Well, it turns out if a living person looks at the photo, they’ll only see Kim and Thomas,” Alex explained. “But for us ghosts…”

“You and Alex are visible,” Wendy finished, starting to piece things together. “Ghosts can see other ghosts.”

“Kind of obvious,” Alex replied. “There’s a very kind ghostly old lady who lives in the house across the street. She likes visitors. I think she died around ’87.”

“Oh…”

“Also, over time you’ll be able to develop ghost abilities. You know, the usual,” Alex continued, “floating a bit, appearing and disappearing like Sam.”

“Were you talking to me?” Sam’s voice came out of nowhere as he appeared in the living room, startling Wendy again. “And we can also move things, but that takes energy and time. Alex has been dead for four years and can barely move a glass a few centimeters. I can move slightly bigger objects, sometimes turn lights on and off, close doors, and so on.”

Wendy took a step back, still startled by Sam’s sudden appearance.

“This… this is too much,” she said, her voice trembling as she looked from Alex to Sam. “I don’t know if I want to be able to do that… float, move things…”

“The transition is tough, but hey, you’re not alone,” Sam spoke again, placing a hand on Wendy’s shoulder. “You can tell us anything. We’re trustworthy, seriously.”

Alex nodded at Sam’s words.

“Now, Alex and I are going to do our favorite midnight thing,” Sam said.

“And what’s that?”

“Sit on the roof, watch the city, and wait for sunrise while we talk,” Alex smiled.

“The sunrise looks amazing from the roof.”

Wendy fell silent, looking at both of them… Really, there wasn’t much of a choice.

“Sure,” she said.

“Great, this way we can get to know each other better,” Sam said, beginning to lead the way. “You know? I had a brother too, the older one. His name’s Daniel. He was an idiot with me when I was a kid.”

“My sister’s name was… Julie, just a year younger than me. We used to fight a lot,” Wendy continued the conversation as they moved down the stairs.

“Of course, leave the only child behind,” Alex muttered under his breath as he followed behind them.

Wendy was still going through a bit of a crisis, but it had become a little more bearable with Sam and Alex’s presence.

“I’m eighteen too,” Alex commented once the three of them were on the roof, looking at the cityscape from Kimberly’s house. “I wanted to study aerospace engineering—kind of ironic considering what I ended up seeing.”

Wendy smiled faintly.

“I was studying journalism,” Wendy said. “I barely survived the exams, and then I… died. What about you, Sam?”

“I studied business,” Sam answered. “But my dream was always to study culinary arts, though it was way too expensive. Still, I became a chef, a really good one.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Not everyone gets offered a permanent job in one of the world’s culinary capitals,” Sam bragged, and Alex rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

Wendy laughed softly, gazing at the beautiful early morning scenery. For a moment, she forgot about the tension, the ghosts, and everything that had happened that night.

“Seems like we all had interrupted dreams,” she murmured, watching the city lights flicker in the distance.

Alex beside her sighed, while Sam lay down on the roof, letting his legs dangle over the edge.

“Yeah…” Alex responded. “But right now we have someone helping us, someone who listens. We can even visit your grave—Kim would be thrilled to do that.”

“Thanks,” Wendy smiled at them and turned her gaze back to the sky.

Without a doubt, they hadn’t lied: the sunrise looked breathtaking from the roof. Its beauty made her forget her crisis. Wendy thought that, at least for a couple of hours, she could be okay, thinking about the sunrise, thinking about the conversations with the other two ghosts.

Peace, for now.

Because Kimberly certainly surprised Alex and Sam the next morning.

“We’re going to see Bludworth,” she told them.

“Son of a…,” Sam muttered.

“Is that necessary?” Alex asked.

“Uhm… who’s Bludworth?” Wendy asked, looking at all three of them.

“It’s a long story…” the three of them answered at the same time.

Chapter Text

When Kimberly woke up that morning, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

She went into Rory’s room, changed his diaper, dressed him, and gave him a few gentle cuddles.

“Wanna join Mommy for breakfast?” Kim asked with a soft smile as Rory babbled happily, a wide grin spreading across his tiny face. “Come on, we’ll wait for Daddy too.”

Kim carried Rory downstairs, placed him in his high chair, and began moving around the kitchen. She grabbed a small jar of pear purée, sat in front of him, and started feeding him spoonful by spoonful.

“You love this, don’t you?” Kimberly smiled when she heard her baby’s sweet laughter. “Such a good boy.”

Thomas wouldn’t be home for another two hours, which gave her enough time to figure out how exactly to tell her husband that there was a new ghost in the house.

“Do you think you’ll be able to see her too, little one?” Kimberly asked, wiping Rory’s face clean.

Rory just babbled in response, clapping his tiny hands together.

“Well said, Rory,” Sam said, walking into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Sam,” Kimberly greeted, starting to prepare her own breakfast while Sam took a seat to watch Rory, who, that morning, didn’t seem to notice the ghost at all.

A moment later, Alex and Wendy entered as well.

“Good morning, Kim,” Alex greeted as he walked over to Rory’s chair.

“Morning, Alex,” Kimberly replied. “And good morning to you, Wendy.”

Wendy looked surprised by the greeting and froze for a second, unsure how to react.

“Good morning,” she finally said.

“I’m guessing the guys filled you in on the basics last night?” Kim asked, setting the pan aside for a moment.

“The basics… I think so,” Wendy tilted her head slightly, watching what Kimberly was cooking. “It’s strange that I can still smell things.”

“Yeah, the senses are still a weird topic for us,” Sam said quickly, stepping beside Wendy and resting a hand on her shoulder. “We’ve got sight, hearing, and smell. Touch only works between us ghosts. If we try to touch a living person, we just phase through them—and they get this awful chill down their spine.”

Wendy shuddered at the sensation of Sam’s hand.

“That’s so weird,” she said, brushing his hand off. “So we don’t have taste either?”

“Well, we’re dead,” Alex replied. “It’s not like we need to eat. Haven’t felt hunger once since we appeared to Kimberly. No sleep, no fatigue either… it’s strange when you really think about it. Makes me wonder what exactly affects the afterlife and how—”

“Okay, enough of the lecture, Theodore, you’re making it weird,” Sam interrupted, right as Rory babbled again. “See? The baby’s on my side.”

“Alex can be a bit of a talker,” Kim said with a grin, sitting down to eat her breakfast. “Sometimes he just drifts into… paranoia and conspiracy theories.”

“Sorry,” Alex muttered, and Wendy laughed softly.

“He reminds me of someone I knew,” she said.

Kim sat to eat while Rory finally seemed to notice Sam. The baby’s eyes followed the ghost intently as Sam leaned from side to side, making Rory giggle every time.

As Kim took her first bite of scrambled eggs, Wendy drifted closer, floating slowly until she hovered across the table. Her eyes studied the plate with quiet curiosity.

“It’s strange,” Wendy murmured. “I can smell the butter, the toast… but there’s nothing. Not even a hint of hunger. It’s like watching a movie you got cut out of.”

“You get used to it after a while,” Sam said with a shrug, still rocking gently in front of Rory. “At least it beats eternal nothingness, right?”

Alex, who had been silently watching the exchange, frowned.

“That’s an assumption, Sam. We can’t be sure there is a ‘nothingness.’ Our presence here could be an anomaly—a postmortem design flaw caused by the supernatural nature of our deaths, or maybe by the interference created by Kim’s visions themsel—”

“Theodore,” Sam cut him off sharply. “Paranoia. Again.”

Kimberly sighed and set her fork down—not out of annoyance, but that familiar, deep kind of tired sigh she’d learned to live with. She looked at Wendy, who immediately understood the unspoken message.

“Not today, Alex, please,” Kim said softly. “It’s way too early for existential crises.”

“Sorry, Kim,” Alex muttered, moving to sit by the kitchen counter.

Wendy didn’t take her eyes off Kimberly.

“How do you do it?” she asked suddenly, genuine curiosity in her voice. “How do you live like this? Having breakfast, taking care of your baby… with us here. I think I’d have lost my mind.”

Kimberly took a sip of coffee, letting the warmth slide down her throat and soothe her nerves. Her gaze drifted to Rory, who was now fascinated by his own hand opening and closing, then back to the three ghosts standing in her kitchen.

“At first, I did think I was losing my mind,” Kim admitted.

“You should’ve seen her,” Alex said with a grin. “She tried to hit us with a bat—and passed out cold.”

Kimberly held back a laugh, though Sam didn’t even try.

“I guess, over time, I just got used to having Sam and Alex around,” she explained with a small smile. “It’s been four years. They’re practically part of the family now.”

“And the best part,” Sam said, flashing a big grin, “we don’t pay rent.”

Wendy let out a light laugh along with the others, starting to feel more at ease. But then she froze for a second—Rory was staring straight at her.

Alex noticed immediately.

“We’ve realized Rory can see us every now and then,” Alex explained. “According to Sam, it’s because babies—”

“—can sense supernatural things since they’re close to what people call ‘the veil between worlds,’” Wendy finished. “My grandma used to tell that to my sister and me all the time when we were kids.”

Before Kimberly could respond, the front door opened and then shut again.

Thomas stepped inside, letting out a weary sigh as he dropped his keys into a purple bowl on the entry table. He took off his coat, hung it neatly on the rack, and walked into the kitchen.

“Morning, love,” Thomas said, leaning down to kiss Kimberly on the lips.

“You look exhausted,” she said. “Want breakfast or sleep?”

“I’ve got just enough energy for some toast with jam,” Thomas said, walking over to the baby’s high chair. Rory lit up the moment he saw him. “Hey there, little man. Did you miss Daddy?”

Rory babbled in response.

Wendy smiled at the sweet family moment—at least until Sam stood up, raised his hand, and tried to smack Thomas on the back. Instead of connecting, his hand went straight through him, leaving behind a faint blue shimmer that faded as soon as it passed.

Thomas shivered hard enough to almost lose his balance.

“Morning, Sam,” he said with a tired smile.

“Morning, Thomas,” Alex greeted, nudging a spoon on the table just enough for Thomas to notice.

“Morning to you too, Alex,” Thomas replied, sounding genuinely grateful.

It was still strange—watching Thomas casually interact with two people he couldn’t see or properly talk to.

Wendy watched as he poured himself some coffee and grabbed a slice of toast, sitting down to eat. For a few quiet minutes, they all chatted about his shift at work. Then Thomas asked how Kim’s day had been.

“About that…” she said, taking a sip of her coffee, immediately catching his attention.

“Thomas, we need to talk,” Kimberly said, watching as her husband slowly set his cup down.

“Of course. What happened?” he asked. “Is it something with Rory?”

“Rory’s fine. But something did happen,” Kimberly said, locking eyes with him. “Do you remember everything I told you about my nightmares—before I started seeing Sam and Alex?”

“Yes,” Thomas answered softly. His expression was steady, full of that quiet understanding that always gave Kimberly comfort.

“I had one of those nightmares again last night,” she continued. “And when I woke up… there was a girl in the house.”

Thomas’s eyes widened slightly.

“You’re saying there’s another ghost in the house?” he asked, and Kimberly nodded.

“Her name’s Wendy. She also had a premonition about an accident—like me, like Sam, like Alex,” Kim explained, resting her arms on the table.

Thomas went silent for a few long seconds. Kimberly and the three ghosts all waited, watching him think it over.

“Is she here right now?” he asked.

“She’s right behind me,” Kimberly said. Thomas lifted his gaze to where Wendy was standing.

“Well then,” he said with a small nod, “welcome, Wendy. I can’t see any of you—though I’m sure Kimberly’s told you that—but sometimes I can feel your presence.”

Right on cue, Sam ran a hand through Thomas’s shoulder again, making him flinch with another shiver.

“Yeah, just like that,” Thomas muttered, exasperated. “Anyway, make yourself at home.”

“Wow,” Wendy murmured. “He took that way better than I expected. Uh… thanks.”

“She says thanks,” Kim relayed quietly. Then her voice softened even more. “And… there’s something else. Not bad news, exactly, but… last night we realized something. I think Rory might be able to see them. At least sometimes.”

This time, Thomas’s face changed completely.

“I think I’m gonna need another cup of coffee,” Thomas said, standing up from his chair.

Breakfast went by without any major incidents, and after eating, Thomas went upstairs to get some sleep.

By the time the clock struck three in the afternoon, he was back downstairs, looking more rested after his shift.

In the living room, Kimberly was reading while Rory played on his mat, surrounded by scattered toys. The baby was fixated on his little fire truck, which was moving left to right all on its own.

Of course, to anyone else, that would’ve looked odd—but from Kimberly’s perspective, she could see Alex sitting cross-legged in front of Rory, gently pushing the truck back and forth.

“And this brave firefighter,” Alex murmured softly—so softly that Kim almost didn’t recognize his voice—“isn’t afraid of even the fiercest blaze. Look at him go, Rory, saving the whole city.”

“Looks like Rory’s got himself a playmate now,” Thomas said from the doorway, making Kimberly smile. “Are the others around?”

“Wendy got a little overwhelmed, and Sam offered to give her a tour around the neighborhood,” Kim explained. “I think he wanted to introduce her to the ghost nun two streets over.”

“Oh…” Thomas blinked, unsure how to respond, then opened his mouth to say something else—but Kim glanced toward the empty space where Alex had been sitting.

“I think it’s time to change Rory’s diaper,” she said, starting to stand up.

“I got it!” Thomas said quickly, hurrying over to scoop Rory into his arms.

“Thomas, you just woke up…”

“Exactly. I need to get moving, and nothing wakes you up faster than changing this little guy’s diaper.” He grinned at her. “Say bye-bye to Mommy.”

Still holding Rory, Thomas grabbed the baby’s tiny hand and waved it toward Kim as he carried him out of the room, making her laugh.

Kim sighed happily, then felt the couch shift slightly beside her—the faint, familiar weight of Alex sitting down.

“You always wanted siblings, didn’t you?” Kim asked without turning to him.

“Yeah,” Alex said, smiling faintly. “Tod was kinda like one, but seeing him with his brother made me want one of my own. My parents only had me, though. My mom had complications when she was pregnant, and since having me was already a nightmare for them… I ended up an only child.”

Kimberly nodded, closing her book.

“Well, I’ll tell you this…” She looked over at him. “You make a great big brother.”

“Oh,” Alex said, caught off guard. “Uh… thanks.” He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his nose awkwardly.

“Alex, could you do me a favor?” she asked.

“Anything.”

“Could you go find Sam and Wendy?” Kimberly said. “There’s something I need to tell everyone before it gets too late.”

“Sure thing. They’re probably with that pyromaniac ghost down at the abandoned park,” the teenage ghost replied, then vanished.

Left alone, Kimberly set her book aside and climbed the stairs toward the nursery, where Thomas was finishing folding some of Rory’s clothes.

“All done,” Thomas said, smiling as Rory giggled. He turned to see his wife step in. “See? No problem at all.”

Kimberly smiled and slipped an arm around him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You have no idea how much I love a competent man,” she teased, making Thomas laugh.

A brief silence followed. Thomas knew there was something more behind her words.

“What is it you want to tell me?” he asked.

“Last night, when Wendy showed up… there was a moment when she started crying,” Kim said quietly. “And it made me cry too.”

“That’s because you’re empathetic, sweetheart,” Thomas said with a gentle smile.

“I don’t mean it like that, Thomas,” Kim cut in. “Wendy cried—real tears. I saw them roll down her cheeks. In the four years I’ve known Sam and Alex, I’ve seen them sad, but I’ve never seen them cry. But when Wendy did, it triggered something in all of us. Sam, Alex, and I—we all started crying too. I didn’t even notice until my vision blurred. Something about Wendy made me cry… without wanting to.”

“That’s… strange. Considering the circumstances, it’s very strange,” Thomas said slowly.

“I know. And honestly, it worries me,” Kim admitted, her voice trembling a little. “Why her? Why now? So while I was feeding Rory this morning, I thought… maybe I should go to someone who actually understands death—someone who might have answers.”

“Kim…”

“I know it sounds desperate, but I am desperate for answers, Thomas,” she said firmly. “And he’s the only person who knows something about this kind of thing. Even if it’s not much.”

Thomas stayed silent for a moment, adjusting Rory in his arms as the baby babbled softly.

“Even though I’d rather go with you, I know Sam and Alex can help,” he said finally. “I’ll take care of Rory. Don’t worry, love.”

Kimberly smiled and leaned in to hug him, careful not to squish the baby between them.

“I love you more than you can imagine,” she whispered against his shoulder.

“And I love you,” Thomas replied, kissing the top of her head. “You know Sam’s gonna lose his mind when he hears who you’re going to see, right?”

“Oh, I know,” she said with a small, resigned nod.

About three minutes later, all three ghosts were gathered in the kitchen, facing Kimberly.

“We’re going to see Bludworth,” she told them flatly.

“Son of a…” Sam muttered.

“Is that really necessary?” Alex asked, frowning.

“Uh… who’s Bludworth?” Wendy asked, glancing between the three of them.

“It’s a long story…” they all answered at once.

A few minutes later—after Thomas had reassured her for what felt like the eleventh time that he’d be fine alone with Rory—Kim left the house, followed by her trio of spectral companions.

“So, this Bludworth guy—he gave you advice?” Wendy asked as they walked.

“Advice?” Sam barked out a bitter laugh. “Ha! That bastard told us to kill each other!”

“What?” Wendy froze mid-step.

“He said that if you killed someone, you’d take the years they had left,” Sam explained, his voice laced with anger.

“And… did you?” Wendy asked softly.

“I did it to protect my girlfriend!” Sam snapped. “And for what? I still died. We both did!”

His jaw tightened, fury simmering beneath his tone.

“So forgive me if I’m not thrilled about visiting that lying, self-righteous son of a—”

“Sam, stop it,” Alex cut him off, and Sam just grunted, picking up his pace toward Kim’s car. Wendy watched him walk right through the door like it was nothing, then took a seat in the back.
“Sorry about Sam…” Alex said, glancing at her.

“Bludworth’s been… very different with each of us,” he went on. “He told me to look for Death’s design—the signs of what could happen. But with Kim, he gave her a way to cheat Death.”

“What do you mean by cheat?” Wendy asked, but before Alex could answer, Kim cleared her throat—loudly. When Wendy turned, she saw Kim already behind the wheel.

“It’s better if she explains it on the way,” Alex said, walking toward the car and climbing in beside Sam, leaving the passenger seat open for Wendy.

But Wendy didn’t get in. She stayed outside, looking hesitant.

“You getting in or what?” Kim asked.

“Last night Alex said I’d go straight through the couch if I tried to sit on it. Won’t that happen here too?” Wendy replied.

Kim sighed and shot Alex a look—one raised eyebrow that said everything. Alex smiled nervously.

“In my defense—it was Sam’s idea!” Alex shouted, earning a “Go to hell, Alex!” from the back seat.
“It was just a joke, okay? I was messing with you, Wendy. I’m sorry. You can sit. Just focus on doing it, and you’ll be fine.”

Wendy frowned, hesitating for a second, then closed her eyes and focused. Carefully, she slid into the seat, bracing herself. She didn’t fall through. When she opened her eyes, she was sitting there—solid. Strange feeling. Like sitting without actually feeling it. Weird.

“I did it,” Wendy murmured, mostly to herself.

“Congrats, you passed the ‘don’t fall through the floor’ test,” Sam said sarcastically from the back. “Now get ready for the ‘don’t pull your hair out while Kim talks to the old man’ test.”

Kim rolled her eyes and started the engine. The hum of the car broke the ghostly tension for a moment. She pulled out of the driveway and onto the street.

“Don’t mind him,” Kim said, eyes on the road. “Sam’s just cranky because he hates Bludworth’s advice.”

“That wasn’t advice, it was bullshit,” Sam muttered.

“And you?” Wendy asked, turning toward Kim. “Alex said Bludworth gave you a way to cheat Death. How?”

“Well…” Kimberly said, glancing sideways at her. “Bludworth told me that new life defeats Death.”

“New life?” Wendy repeated. “Like… a baby?”

“That’s what we thought at first, but no,” Kimberly said. “New life means dying and coming back. The new life is coming back.”

“And you did that?”

“I got into an ambulance outside a hospital and drove straight into a lake,” Kim said, as if it were nothing. “Thomas pulled me out and tried to revive me, but the doctors took me inside. I was dead for about five minutes before they brought me back—and that broke the chain. Death’s list was canceled, and Thomas and I both survived.”

“I wish I’d known that sooner,” Wendy said, staring out the window.

“I wish none of us ever had to go through any of this,” Kim replied softly.

Silence settled in the car after Kim’s words. Wendy kept her eyes on the city rolling by outside, trying to make sense of the twisted logic that ruled their fates.

“And you think Bludworth will have answers?” Alex asked.

“He always has something to say, doesn’t he?” Kim replied. “At least more answers than what we’ve got right now, yeah.”

Kimberly kept driving, the scenery shifting into a more suburban view. Alex tensed up—his old family home wasn’t far from there.

They turned a corner, and there it was: the funeral home. Only this time, they were at the back entrance, not the front. They got out of the car—and even the ghosts could feel the heavy, unpleasant aura seeping out from that place.

“Why not go through the front?” the ghost girl asked.

“The back door’s always better,” Kim said simply.

“Will he be there?” Wendy asked.

“He’s always there,” Kimberly replied. “He’s a coroner. The dead never stop coming.”

She pushed the back door open—it gave way with an ugly creak, far less ceremonial than the main entrance. Instead of the solemn stillness of a funeral parlor, they were met with the cold air of the crematory and morgue. The group walked down a narrow hallway, lit by a flickering white fluorescent tube above.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Wendy muttered, a hand over her chest.

“Gee, I wonder why,” Sam said with grim sarcasm. “It’s only the place dead people end up in.”

“Stop being such an ass, Sam,” Alex snapped, giving him a shove with his shoulder.

“This place just messes with me, okay?” Sam shot back.

“Messes with you? I had to climb through the damn roof to see my best friend’s body in here,” Alex said sharply.

“Can you two shut up?” Wendy interrupted—and for the first time, both guys saw her wearing a different expression. Not scared, sad, blank, or solemn. Angry. Brow furrowed, voice firm.
“You’re getting on my last nerve,” she said—and that new look on her face was actually scarier than anything else in the room.

Sam and Alex raised their hands in surrender.

“Thanks for shutting them up,” Kim whispered under her breath.

After a few more steps, the four of them reached the crematory.

“At least it’s empty,” Sam said, shrugging. “No dead bodies to look at this time.”

Before anyone could reply, a sharp whistle echoed through the room—a sound that sent a chill down Kimberly’s spine.

“Visitors usually come through the front door.”

Bludworth entered through a side door, his presence as cold and composed as ever. Wendy instinctively took a step back. It was the first time she’d ever seen him—and his mere presence had managed to frighten a ghost.

“Ah… Miss Corman,” he said, his raspy yet calm voice carrying through the room, a faint smile curling on his lips.

“It’s Mrs. Burke now, actually,” Kim replied, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

“Congratulations on the marriage, then,” Bludworth said, almost solemnly. “An unexpected reunion, I must admit. I didn’t expect to see you again—especially not after receiving Clear’s body.”

At the mention of Clear’s name, Alex’s face darkened.

“No visions or prophetic dreams lately?” Bludworth asked, smiling faintly, slyly.

“No,” Kimberly answered, steady and direct. “But the question does concern certain people who do have visions.”

“Is this about the roller coaster accident in Pennsylvania earlier this year?” Bludworth asked, startling Wendy. “Or perhaps that young man from Aspen who claimed to have seen an avalanche destroy a ski resort a month before it happened?”

“What? N-No,” Kim stammered.

“Christ, how many times does this crap happen every year?” Sam muttered.

“Then you have me intrigued, Kimberly,” Bludworth said calmly.

Kimberly swallowed hard. She had his full attention—and it was the kind of attention that felt heavy, like a stone pressing down on her back. Around her, the three ghosts had fallen into uneasy silence, watching every move the coroner made. Wendy, especially, had begun scanning the room as if something unseen were closing in.

“It’s not about a new visionary,” Kim clarified carefully, choosing her words, trying to stay steady under his stare. “It’s about… the old ones.”

Bludworth didn’t react, but his silence was more suffocating than any reply.

“The old ones, you say?” he repeated slowly, his gaze fixed entirely on Kim.

“Yes,” she said, feeling the spectral eyes burning on the back of her neck. It was time to tell him. “A few months after I was revived at the hospital, I started seeing two people—people who died a long time ago. People who went through what I did… but didn’t make it out alive.”

“Tell him our names,” Sam said, eyes on Bludworth.

“Sam—” Alex began.

“Tell him, Kimberly,” Sam repeated, voice sharper this time.

“They were Sam Lawton and Alex Browning,” Kimberly said, and the moment those names left her lips, Bludworth’s interest visibly deepened. “I know you met Alex—Clear told me. And I know you met Sam—because he told me, three years ago.”

Bludworth let out something between a restrained chuckle and a sigh, turning his back to her as he started to walk away.

“You know where the door is,” he said, heading toward what looked like his office.

“Oh no, you’re not walking away, you bastard,” Sam growled, striding toward him. He swung a hand through Bludworth’s shoulder—and as always, that ghostly contact sent a chilling shiver through the living man’s body, stopping him mid-step. “You’re staying right here. Tell him we’re here, Kim.”

“They came with me, Bludworth,” Kim said firmly. The coroner turned back toward her, his face unreadable. “And more importantly—Sam is very present.”

“Remember when you met me, after the memorial for the Presage Paper victims?” Sam said, standing right beside him.

“You met him after the North Bay Bridge collapse,” Kim added, stepping forward.

“You told me stealing someone’s years would add them to our own,” Sam continued.

“You told him taking another’s life would give him those years,” Kimberly said. “Then he died—on Flight 180.”

Bludworth turned his head, eyes locking on Kimberly’s.

“Do you remember, Bludworth?” Sam shouted near his ear. “Do you remember!?”

“A shame the young man died that way,” Bludworth said simply—and that single sentence snapped something inside Sam.

With fury boiling in his eyes, Sam moved toward the nearest tray of metal instruments. He raised both hands, his expression darkening as Kimberly’s alarmed voice broke through the heavy silence of the morgue.

“Sam, don’t,” she said, but to Bludworth, Kimberly was just speaking into thin air.

Then Sam swept his hands through the metal tray, channeling enough energy to send it crashing to the floor with a sharp metallic clatter that echoed through the morgue. Bludworth flinched at the sound.

Sam vanished, and suddenly the overhead lights began to flicker wildly. Both Kimberly and Bludworth looked up at the ceiling lamps as they buzzed and blinked.

“Sam, stop playing around,” Kimberly said aloud. The lights steadied, and Sam came back into view—only to kick the fallen tray hard, sending it skidding across the floor until it clanged against Bludworth’s shoes. The coroner stumbled back.

“Kimberly,” Wendy whispered, stepping closer to her. “Mention Iris.”

“What?” Kim asked, startled.

“I snuck into his office while Sam was pulling his little stunt,” Wendy explained quickly. “I saw the name in something that looked important.”

“Does the name Iris ring a bell?” Kim asked. And if Sam’s outburst had shaken Bludworth, this question nearly made him lose his footing. “Before you ask—Wendy, the new ghost girl from the roller coaster in Pennsylvania, she told me. She was in your office while I was out here talking to you.”

Bludworth went silent.

“Do you believe me now?” Kim pressed.

He straightened, regaining his composure. “And what exactly did you come here for, Kimberly?” he asked, tone calm again. “My specialty lies with the recently deceased, not… ghosts.”

“You always seem to know more than you let on,” Kimberly shot back. “Wouldn’t surprise me if you knew something about this too. If you were twisted enough not to tell Sam or Alex about the ‘new life’ loophole, then I’m sure you’ve got more knowledge tucked away.”

Alex smirked faintly at Kimberly’s words.

Bludworth held her gaze for a long, uncomfortable moment before finally speaking.

“I don’t have answers for this… not the ones you’re looking for,” he said at last. “But I did once know someone who believed there were two planes—the realm of the living, and the realm of the dead.”

He straightened fully, voice taking on that cryptic calm again.

“There are people in this world with… a unique gift.”

“Mediums,” Alex murmured.

“Like a medium?” Kimberly asked.

“That’s what some call them,” Bludworth replied. “People born with the ability to see beyond this plane—to glimpse what lingers in the second one.”

“But I can’t see other ghosts,” Kimberly said quickly. “Only them. Sam, Alex, and now Wendy. They’ve told me they’ve spoken to other spirits here, but I can’t see them.”

“For that,” Bludworth said simply, “I have no answer, Kimberly.”

“Asshole,” Sam muttered, folding his arms.

“Although…” Bludworth added after a pause. “Wait here.”

The coroner disappeared into his office, leaving Kim and the ghosts standing in uneasy silence.

“Should we spy on him?” Alex whispered.

They didn’t have time to decide—Bludworth returned moments later, holding something in his hand.

“This is the address of someone I met a few years ago,” he said, extending a small piece of paper toward Kimberly. “She’s a medium.”

She looked at him with a hint of suspicion before reaching out and taking the small note from his hand.

“She can answer the questions I cannot,” Bludworth said, his tone final.

Kimberly read the address and the name written beneath it:
“Madame Farrah.”

She looked up at Bludworth again.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely, then glanced down at the small mess Sam had made. “Uh… and Sam says he’s sorry about the mess.”

“I’m not sorry,” Sam muttered.

“He is sorry,” Kimberly insisted with a quick nod before turning toward the exit, heading back to where she’d parked her car—before anything else could happen.

“Well, that was pointless,” Sam grumbled.

“Not entirely,” Alex said. “We got an address.”

Kimberly looked closer at the note. The street name felt oddly familiar. It was near a small open-air plaza, close to the park where she used to walk with Thomas and Rory.

“It’s your call, Kim—whether you trust him or not,” Wendy said softly.

Kim glanced at her spectral companions, then at her car.

“Well,” she sighed, “we still have some daylight left.”

Chapter Text

The car moved at a perfectly legal speed down the street.
Anyone passing by would have just seen a woman driving calmly on a Friday afternoon—but if they could hear what was going on inside...

“Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?”

Alex and Sam were singing along at full volume, attempting some sort of dance routine in the back seat, while Kimberly and Wendy sat quietly in the front.

“Are they always like this?” Wendy asked.

“No,” Kimberly shook her head. “Sometimes they’re worse.”

Wendy grimaced, though not too seriously, which made Kim chuckle softly.

“Not a fan of the Pussycat Dolls?” Kim asked.

“I prefer Gorillaz,” Wendy replied.

“Noted,” Kim nodded. “I’ll try to queue up some of their songs for our next trip.”

“Are we there yet?” Alex asked, leaning between the seats.

“No, Alex,” Kimberly said. “It’s about twenty minutes away.”

Alex groaned and slumped back in his seat.

“Hey, Wendy,” Sam leaned forward next. “What was your boyfriend’s name again?”

“...Jason. Why?” Wendy asked, wary.

“Just trying to get to know you better,” Sam said with a grin. “My girlfriend’s name was Molly. And Alex’s partners were Tod and Clear.”

“Tod wasn’t my boyfriend!” Alex shouted from the back.

“Yeah, sure,” Sam nodded solemnly, then whispered to Wendy, “He says that every time.”

Wendy let out a small laugh.

After about fifteen minutes, they finally reached the plaza area—though finding the exact place turned out to be the tricky part.

“So where is this place supposed to be?” Wendy asked.

“I’ll check outside, you guys look around here,” Sam announced before disappearing from the car.

“I hate that he’s better at disappearing,” Alex muttered, sticking his head out the window to get a better look.

Kimberly kept driving slowly down the street, passing several small shops on either side.

“It has to be around here somewhere,” she said, scanning the storefronts.

Sam hadn’t reappeared yet, still searching. Wendy kept watching from her side of the car, and Alex still had half his body hanging out the window. Luckily, Kim spotted Sam standing at a corner, waving toward a parking lot—apparently, he’d found the right place.

And he had. As she pulled into the small lot, Kim saw the name written in elegant cursive across the main window:

“Madame Farrah’s Esoteric Emporium.”

“How subtle,” Alex muttered under his breath.

“Well, no point wasting time,” Kimberly said, parking the car. She stepped out, followed closely by her anxious ghostly entourage.

Kimberly walked up to the entrance. The glass door had a small sign hanging from it that read “OPEN” in bold black letters. She took a couple of steps forward and pulled the door open.

The smell of incense hit her immediately, followed by the soft hum of jazz music filling the air.

The interior was a world of its own. Daylight filtered through thick red velvet curtains hanging from the main window. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with volumes of every color and thickness imaginable.

Kimberly let the door close behind her with a gentle click, shutting out the noise of the city. For a moment, she felt watched—not with hostility, but with a faint, unsettling awareness that someone’s eyes were on her. Wendy seemed to feel it too; her expression mirrored Kim’s unease.

Kim’s eyes scanned the shop. To one side, Alex was already nosing through a pile of books stacked on a small table in the corner. Wendy was gazing up at the odd decorations hanging from the ceiling. And Sam stood before a glass case displaying a neat collection of stones and crystals, each labeled with a tiny handwritten tag.

“Welcome,” a mature but melodious voice—soft as the jazz playing in the background—broke the silence.

Kimberly turned toward the doorway at the back of the shop. A tall woman stood there, wearing a purple shawl embroidered with golden stars. Her long, wavy black hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her face bore a few gentle wrinkles, but even so, she radiated elegance and poise.

“She definitely looks like a Madame Farrah,” Sam muttered.

The woman halted mid-step, fixing her eyes on Kimberly with a faint frown.

“You are not alone,” she declared, stepping forward once. The click of her heeled boots echoed softly across the wooden floor. “Three presences accompany you—two men and a young lady. Please, have a seat.”

Madame Farrah gestured toward a round table in the center of the room. It was covered with a thin red cloth trimmed in gold, and atop it rested a large crystal ball.

Kimberly walked over and sat in one of the two chairs placed on opposite sides of the table. Madame Farrah sat in the other.

“I’m Kimberly Burke,” she introduced herself, though the other woman’s focus seemed elsewhere—on something beyond her.

“There are three souls bound to you,” Madame Farrah began, her tone calm yet weighty. “Suffering souls, burdened by deep sorrow.”

Kimberly held her breath. For the first time since gaining her strange gift, someone living could sense her spectral companions.

“Yes,” Kim confirmed in a whisper. “They’re always with me.”

Behind her, the three ghosts gathered close—just as curious as she was.

“And you seem to know them well,” Madame Farrah continued.

“I’ve gotten used to them,” Kim said softly.

“Two men and one young woman,” Madame Farrah repeated, her hazel eyes unfocused as if staring through Kim. “The older man… he carries a romantic energy within him, yet his once-beating heart is heavy with grief. And there’s anger too—deep, festering anger he believes he’s managed to keep under control.”

“That would be Sam,” Kim said quietly.

“The young man,” Farrah went on, “a bright mind clouded by tragedy. He searches for answers where there may be nothing but echoes.”

“That’s Alex.”

“The young lady…” Madame Farrah’s voice softened. “Her energy feels more recent. There’s fear—deep sorrow—clinging to her.”

Her fingers, heavy with ornate silver rings, brushed over the smooth surface of the crystal ball.

“That’s Wendy,” Kim said with a small nod, before breaking the silence. “Can you… actually see them?”

Madame Farrah slowly shook her head.

“Not with my eyes,” she said. “I feel them—like a cold draft in a sealed room. They’re residual energies that linger in our plane of existence. I can sense them… even make contact.” She leaned closer over the table, lowering her voice. “But I have a feeling you can see and hear them, can’t you?”

Kimberly went silent, the air pressing down on her chest at the woman’s piercing intuition.

“Four years ago,” Kimberly said at last. “That’s when I started seeing two of them—the men. Then last night, I started seeing the girl too, and I have no idea why.”

“How curious,” Madame Farrah murmured. “I can’t even feel the usual psychic signature around you… at least, not the ordinary kind.” She gave a delicate shrug. “And you’re here because you’re searching for answers.”

“Someone sent us here, actually,” Kimberly said. “William Bludworth. He told me you might have more answers than he ever could.”

“The old JB?” Madame Farrah leaned back in her chair. Kimberly watched as the woman reached beneath her shawl, retrieving a silver cigarette case. She pulled one out, lit it, and exhaled a stream of smoke before continuing.

“I met him years ago, after my aunt died in a horribly tragic way. And what exactly is it you’re hoping to find, my dear?”

“Do you know why I can see them?” Kim asked.

“Short answer: no,” Madame Farrah replied flatly. “If you’d prefer the long one… There’s something inside you, Kimberly—something you share with the spirits that follow you. A thread that connects all of you.”

“The four of us had premonitions,” Kim said almost immediately, catching Farrah’s attention. “Sam saw the North Bay Bridge collapse. Alex saw Flight 180 explode. I saw the Route 34 pileup. Wendy saw the McKinley roller coaster crash. We all had visions—of disasters that hadn’t happened yet. We managed to save some people…”

“And those people died later,” Madame Farrah interjected, her eyes narrowing. “In strange, unexplainable accidents?”

Kim didn’t answer, but her silence spoke volumes.

“When I met William, late in 1976,” Farrah continued, “my aunt Ingrid had just died—her stove malfunctioned, and her house exploded. He came to me soon after, asking about my young cousin. Said the boy was in danger… that he would die just like my aunt.”

“Did he?” Kim asked softly.

“My cousin died the very next day,” Farrah said. “He was at his grandmother’s house. Somehow… he got trapped in the pool’s drain system. To this day, I can’t explain how it happened. He was only three years old.”

Sam’s brow furrowed deeply.

“I searched for William after that. From what he told me… back in 1969, there was supposed to be a terrible accident at a tower called Skyview. But a young woman named Iris prevented it—she saved dozens of lives.” Farrah exhaled another curl of smoke. “And yet, as time passed, every one of those people died in gruesome, freak accidents.”

“Just like us,” Wendy whispered.

“May I see your hand, dear?” Madame Farrah asked gently.

Kim looked hesitant but extended her hand, palm up. Farrah took it with surprising grace for her age, her touch cool and steady. Her fingers traced the lines on Kim’s palm, pausing over the deepest creases. A chill ran up Kimberly’s arm—not unpleasant, but calm, like the touch of still water.

“Mmm…” The medium murmured, her eyes fixed on Kim’s palm. “Your life line… it’s like a river that splits in two. One current ends abruptly. You died.”
The woman looked up; Kimberly met her gaze, a chill running down her spine before she looked back at her hand.
“But the other current… it flows strong. It’s your new life. Resilient, but forever under a shadow.”

Kimberly held her breath. Behind her, she could feel the intense attention of the three ghosts.

“The line of your head shows a burdened mind… visions you never asked for. And your heart line…” Farrah paused longer this time, her expression softening with a trace of sorrow. “It’s full of love — fierce, untamed love that is your greatest strength. But it’s also marked by griefs that aren’t entirely your own. You carry others’ mourning in your soul, dear.”

Her fingers glided toward the center of Kim’s palm, pressing lightly.

“There it is… the bond,” she whispered, and Kim felt a faint tingling right where Farrah touched. “It’s like a tree branching out, roots strong as steel. They aren’t draining you — they’re anchoring you. Keeping you here, on this side, just as they themselves are bound to you.”

“Anchored?” Kim repeated.

“Yes.” Madame Farrah nodded, releasing her hand gently and leaning back in her chair. “Restless souls usually linger in this plane because they died with unfinished business. They ask for help. But I suspect your three companions haven’t asked you for anything, have they?”

“Well… no,” Kim admitted, shaking her head. “They just… stay.”

Madame Farrah nodded again, setting her cigarette in an ashtray Kim hadn’t noticed before.

“Listen, Kimberly. That split in your life line tells me everything I needed to know… You died, but you were brought back into the fold of the living,” the woman explained, her tone more serious now. “You’ve crossed the threshold between life and death — and in doing so, you were pulled back, but not unchanged. What you came back with isn’t just the ability to see spirits. You see those who died in trauma similar to your own. You’re connected by something deeper — all of you touched death, all of you saw its design. That’s why you can see their ghosts. You’re linked to them in a way that transcends the physical world — like a magnet drawn to kindred souls.”

Madame Farrah’s words struck Kimberly with the weight of an unexpected truth. This wasn’t some random curse. It was the direct and logical consequence of her final act of survival.

“A psychic connection…” Kim echoed, processing the idea. “Because of the visions.”

“Exactly.” The medium nodded, her eyes piercing and certain. “Death didn’t just mark you, dear. It marked everyone who, like you, was forced to see its design — and fight against it. When you died and came back, your spirit… your essence tuned itself to the same frequency as others who shared your trauma. As I said, you became a magnet, drawing in spirits with the same scar.”

Behind Kim, the silence of the ghosts was telling. There was no longer any skepticism — not even from Sam.

“That’s why you can’t see other ghosts,” Alex muttered. “It’s just us — the others who had the visions. The ones death chose in its own twisted way.”

“Guess that makes us a cursed little exclusive club,” Sam added with dark humor that barely hid his fascination. “And you, Kim… you’re the only living member who can see the dead ones.”

Wendy stepped closer to the table, looking at Madame Farrah with a new kind of clarity.

“You’re like a paranormal beacon,” she said softly.

Kimberly felt an overwhelming sense of relief — mixed with a strange new kind of responsibility.
It wasn’t her fault that they were there. It was the twisted nature of death itself.
By defying it, she had developed a sixth sense — a spiritual organ that allowed her to perceive others who had suffered the same way she had.

“So… does this mean there could be more?” Kim asked. “More visionaries whose ghosts are still out there — ones I just haven’t seen yet because the connection hasn’t been triggered?”

Madame Farrah gave a small shrug.

“The spirit world doesn’t follow such simple rules, child. But the connection you describe is powerful. It’s possible that, in the face of a new threat — a new manifestation of the ‘design’ — your gift might… amplify. Or attune itself to someone else enduring the same nightmare.”

The idea alone was terrifying.
It meant not only dealing with her three constant companions — but the possibility that even more tormented souls could start gravitating toward her.

“Do you have any other questions?” Madame Farrah asked.

“Yes, actually…” Kim straightened in her chair. “When the girl — um, Wendy — when she appeared, she cried at one point. And that made the boys and me cry too, like… unconsciously.”

Madame Farrah studied her a little longer.

“Cry? As in, the floodgates just opened?” she asked, and Kim nodded.
“Well, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in this life, it’s that not all spirits behave the same way. Many cultures distinguish between different types of ghosts.”

The medium laced her fingers together on the table.

“Some are echoes — mere energy imprints repeating a moment. Others are shadows, barely conscious presences. But what you’re describing… sounds like she’s a lament.”

Kimberly watched her closely, while Wendy tilted her head in mild confusion.

“A lament isn’t just a ghost,” the medium explained. “It’s an energy charged with such powerful emotion that it’s taken form. Your friend Wendy’s sadness isn’t just a memory; it’s an active force. It’s so strong that I can feel it right here. It’s real, tangible to those who are attuned to her. When she cries, she transmits that grief — and your bodies react to it.”

The explanation resonated deep within the four of them — the living and the dead alike.

“It’s similar to a poltergeist,” Madame Farrah continued, nodding slowly. “But instead of channeling rage or frustration to move objects, your friend channels sorrow so deep it manifests as contagious weeping. She’s a psychoactive entity — but of a far more melancholic nature.”

Kim glanced sideways at Wendy, who stood frozen in place.

“You know, now that you mention it… Sam’s kind of a poltergeist himself,” Kim said. “He moves things, plays with the lights… And I know he died with some unresolved feelings.”

“Don’t pin that on me,” Sam muttered, crossing his arms.

Kim sighed, looking back at the medium and offering a faint, grateful smile.

“Thank you. Really. I was getting desperate for some kind of answer,” she said sincerely.

“It’s nothing, dear. I’m here to help both the living and the dead,” Madame Farrah replied, standing up.
She walked to a counter, took something from it, and returned moments later, handing Kim a card.

“My contact information,” she said with a kind smile. “Don’t hesitate to call if you ever need guidance again.”

Kimberly took the card, noting its deep red color and the golden letters embossed on it.

“You have a child,” the medium suddenly said, catching Kimberly — and the ghosts — off guard.

“Six months old,” Kimberly replied. “And, uh… I think sometimes he can see the ghosts too.”

“That’s perfectly normal,” Madame Farrah said calmly. “Most babies and small children can see spirits. Start worrying when he’s a teenager.”

Kimberly nodded slowly but decided to save the questions for later.
She already had enough of her own crisis without adding a potential future one involving her son.

She said her goodbyes to Madame Farrah and stepped out of the esoteric shop.
The moment she was outside, Kimberly inhaled deeply, letting the fresh air clear away the suffocating incense that clung to her clothes.

“Time to go home,” Kim announced, walking toward her car.

“What’s with the long face, Alex?” Sam asked, noticing the sullen expression on the teenage ghost’s face.

“Nothing…” Alex muttered, but Sam raised an eyebrow at him.
“It’s just… why am I the only one without a special ability?”

Wendy rolled her eyes, and Sam almost laughed.

“I mean it,” Alex went on. “You’re a poltergeist, Wendy makes everyone cry… I can barely move a spoon.”

“Oh, Alex, you already have a special ability,” Sam said, placing a hand on Alex’s shoulder with a grin. “The ability to be fucking annoying, you anemic little twink.”

Then, before Alex could react, Sam slung an arm around his neck and started grinding his fist against the teenager’s head.

“Let go of me, Sam!” Alex yelled, squirming and struggling to get free. “Stop it! Kimberly, say something!”

“You two are like children,” Wendy groaned, rolling her eyes before slipping into the passenger seat of Kim’s car.

Kimberly sighed, deciding to let them work it out on their own.

“Ow!” Sam suddenly shouted. “You fucking gremlin, you bit me!”

That was enough.

Kim got in the car, started the engine, and drove off, leaving the two bickering ghosts in the parking lot while Wendy watched them with an amused smile.

“They’ll make it home by midnight anyway,” Kim said.

Chapter Text

For Kimberly, having answers —no matter how few— about her newfound psychic gift was a huge relief. Being a paranormal beacon sounded terrible, sure, but it was comforting to know it only applied to three ghosts... at least for now.

Thomas had told her she looked like someone who’d had a great weight lifted off her shoulders —more relaxed, lighter somehow.

So Kimberly’s mind was occupied with happier things.

“Happy second anniversary,” Thomas said, kissing her on the lips.

For their anniversary, they’d decided to have dinner at home again —but what a dinner. This time, Thomas insisted on cooking, using one of the many recipes Kimberly had written down from Sam’s dictation.

And while the couple enjoyed their cozy anniversary dinner, their baby boy was with Thomas’s mother… and the ghosts?

“So, then we kissed.”

The three ghosts were in the basement, chatting among themselves —which was a good sign, since Wendy had finally started opening up and talking more about her personal life.

“Let me get this straight,” Sam said from his seat on top of the washing machine. “Your best friend was dating your boyfriend’s best friend… then your boyfriend and your best friend died on the roller coaster, and the newly widowed boyfriend of your best friend decided to really take your boyfriend’s ‘take care of her’ words seriously.”

“Yeah…” Wendy replied.

“And after surviving the emo sociopath, you and Kevin kissed at a fair stand?” Sam concluded.

“Yes,” Wendy admitted again, this time a little more embarrassed.

“Ah, teenage romance,” Sam sighed. “I think it’s normal that you two kissed. Did you talk about, you know, a possible relationship after that?”

“No, never, because we prefer to remain friends” Wendy said quickly. "We just... kissed. A couple of times. But anyone can kiss their friends, right?" 

Sam and Alex both went silent for a moment before Sam finally broke it.

“My first kiss was with a girl who was my friend in high school,” Sam said, nodding.

Alex still hadn’t spoken. He just sat there, quiet, on a worn-out beanbag chair.

“A couple of times… with Tod,” he admitted at last.

“And you still deny it! Have some self-awareness, man,” Sam muttered, earning a glare from Alex that would’ve involved a flying wrench if he could actually move objects that far.

“Fuck you,” Alex said, crossing his arms before turning his attention to Wendy. “If you want my opinion, I think what happened between you and Kevin was perfectly normal.”

“Really?” Wendy asked.

“It’s a documented behavioral pattern,” Alex said matter-of-factly, looking straight at her. “Shared trauma creates an intense and accelerated bond. The line between emotional support and romantic attachment becomes very thin. Statistically, it was a high probability.”

Wendy looked at him, then at Sam, crossing her arms as well.

“Did that happen to you?” she asked.

Alex opened his mouth slightly, then closed it again, looking away before answering.

“Her name was Clear Rivers,” he began. “We were classmates, but we’d never really talked before I had the vision. After that, she never left my side until the very end… I really loved her. We lived together for a while, keeping an eye on each other —trying to outsmart death.”

“Romance at its finest,” Sam muttered under his breath.

“I never thought I could love someone else like that again…” Alex murmured.

“Someone else?” Wendy asked quietly.

Silence filled the basement once more. Alex lowered his gaze, and Wendy looked over at Sam, who shrugged — clearly meaning “Leave it.”

“So… what about your girlfriend, Sam?” Wendy asked, steering the conversation away from Alex.

“Her name was Molly. I met her at work,” Sam began. “She thought I was, like, my best friend’s secretary or something, since he was always around me and never let me out of his sight for long.”

Wendy raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, there was… something there,” Sam admitted. “But I never brought it up with Peter, especially after he started dating Candice. Things got weird. Uncomfortable. Anyway—Molly. She was the one, I was sure of it. I was gonna propose when we got to Paris… but I got barbecued before we even made it there.”

“Wait, that’s right—didn’t you die in an explosion? How the hell do you have remains buried?” Wendy asked.

“As far as I know, they never even found my whole body,” Sam replied. “My grave’s got my torso, my head, one arm, and half a leg. The rest probably ended up as fish food or some shit like that.”

“Ew.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, ‘Miss Got Hit in the Face by a Fucking Train’, I guess your remains are in better shape than mine,” Sam shot back with heavy sarcasm. Wendy just rolled her eyes.

“Jesus, Sam, you really enjoy arguing with teenagers,” Alex joked.

“I’m doomed to spend eternity with two teenage ghosts,” Sam said dryly. “You’re the best company I’ve got—at least until Kimberly starts seeing the ghost of another visionary…”

He trailed off, earning an immediate glare from both of them.

“What?”

“Sam, we don’t want any more ghosts here,” Alex declared firmly. “Three of us and Kim are more than enough.”

“Alex is right,” Wendy agreed. “No more tragedy, okay? Don’t even joke about it.”

“I’m just saying… if there’s already three of us, what’s stopping more from showing up?” Sam muttered, leaving his words hanging in the air. Fortunately, the conversation drifted elsewhere.

When New Year’s rolled around, the family took a short weekend trip to Long Beach—where, out of sheer curiosity, Alex somehow spent ten hours lost at the bottom of the ocean. Turns out ghosts don’t float, and it’s a real pain to get back up once you sink too deep.

By midnight, Alex appeared in front of Kimberly, grinning from ear to ear.

“I think I just solved a forgotten murder from 1967,” he said proudly.

Mental note for everyone: never let Alex anywhere near the ocean again.

After that, the ghosts started getting a lot more social with each other—especially since Sam and Alex made an effort to include Wendy in their outings. One of Alex’s favorite activities? Watching horror movies at the theater.

The three of them were seated in the back row. Alex was completely absorbed, Sam looked genuinely intrigued, and Wendy sat on the edge of her seat, gripping the armrest tightly as the film played.

“We traced the call. The call is coming from inside the house.”

“Oh, shit,” Alex whispered, while Wendy clutched her seat even tighter.

“But she’s gonna save the kids… right?” Wendy asked, glancing nervously at the other two ghosts.

The three of them watched as the babysitter ran to the kids’ room—where the children were, thankfully, still alive, hiding inside a toy chest.

“Oh, thank God,” Wendy sighed in relief—but her calm vanished the moment the killer appeared on the ceiling. “Why did we come to see this movie?”

“Because last week we went to your museum, and today was Alex’s turn,” Sam replied.

“Can you two shut up?” Alex whispered. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

Sam and Wendy fell silent, keeping their focus on the screen until the movie ended. The three ghosts then drifted out of the theater, walking through the massive shopping mall connected to it.

“Poor girl,” Alex said, sounding genuinely sympathetic. “She’s gonna be traumatized for life.”

“At least she did more than the girl in the original movie. God, I hated that one—this one was way more competent,” Sam added.

“I liked it,” Wendy said.

“You were terrified,” Alex teased with a grin.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were.”

“No, I wasn’t!”

Sam let out a small laugh as they kept walking, sunlight still filtering through the big mall windows.

“I don’t get why we had to come all the way to Pennsylvania to watch this movie,” Sam said. “We’ve got a perfectly fine theater near home.”

“Wendy said that in this one, no one would notice us sitting in the back,” Alex explained.

“Alex, we’re ghosts. No one’s gonna notice us anywhere,” Sam replied, rolling his eyes.

“I swear, Becky, those seats in the back were pressed down—like somebody was actually sitting there,” a girl’s voice said behind them.

“You’re imagining things, Karly,” her friend replied, and Sam glanced at them sideways before walking on.

“Whatever,” he muttered and kept going.

They continued walking. Sam let Alex and Wendy go a few steps ahead while he hung back a little. He was distracted—so much that he didn’t notice two guys running through the mall. One blond, one dark-haired. They looked a bit younger than him—not teenagers, but definitely older than the “Wonder Twins” walking up front.

“Ugh, college kids,” Sam muttered, watching the blond smack the dark-haired one on the back of the head before sprinting away. The dark-haired guy groaned and started chasing him.

The dark-haired one ran right in Sam’s path. Sam barely had time to react before the living boy passed straight through him—sending a violent chill through both of them. The guy stumbled, almost falling.

Sam chuckled softly, watching him shiver.

“Nick! Come on, dude!” the blond shouted, turning back toward him.

“That felt awful,” the dark-haired one muttered to himself, then looked up at his friend. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, Hunt.”

The two walked off, but the dark-haired one glanced back for a moment. Sam frowned.

That… felt different.

“Sam! Don’t fall behind!” Alex called.

Sam started walking again, hurrying to catch up with them.

As the months went by, more changes came for Rory—because babies grow, babies change, babies learn.

It wasn’t a surprise anymore that Rory had been saying “mama” and “dada” for about six weeks now. Everyone had been thrilled when his first word turned out to be “mama.” Then, three weeks later, he started repeating “dada,” and from that moment on, he hadn’t stopped talking.

Now, Rory was only two weeks away from his first birthday. He was crawling all over the place, full of energy, and nearly impossible to keep still for more than a few seconds.

But something curious always happened whenever Alex was around—Rory calmed down. It was as if Alex’s presence had this soothing effect on him, like the baby somehow felt safe when the ghost was near.

That was why Kimberly—and even Thomas—trusted Alex to watch over Rory whenever they were busy with something around the house.

That afternoon, Thomas was resting after a long shift, and Kimberly was in the laundry room buried under piles of clothes. Alex had no idea where Sam and Wendy were, so it was just him and Rory in the living room.

Rory sat on a soft blanket surrounded by toys, while Alex hovered nearby, quietly watching the baby play.

“Sometimes I think Sam’s kinda rude to me, you know?” Alex said as Rory shook a rattle in his little hands. “I thought he’d be like an older brother… but he’s more like an annoying idiot.”

“Bah,” Rory babbled.

“I know!” Alex grinned. “You’re a great little brother, Rory. And I hope I’m a good big brother to you.”

The baby dropped the rattle—it had clearly lost his attention—and started turning his head, as if looking for something.

“What’s wrong, Rory?” Alex asked, watching the baby’s curious eyes dart around. “Are you looking for your mom?”

“Mama…” Rory babbled again and began crawling toward the couch.

Alex watched as the baby placed his tiny hands on the sofa, gripping the fabric as he tried to pull himself up. He’d done this before, but he usually just stood there for a second before plopping back onto the floor.

But this time, Rory turned his head awkwardly to the side, looking toward the doorway.

“Rory?” Alex called softly.

Then, to Alex’s shock, the baby let go of the couch—and started taking wobbly steps across the living room.

“Oh my—” Alex’s mouth fell open. He was witnessing Rory’s very first steps. “Kim! Kimberly!”

He shouted, but there was no answer.

“You’re walking,” Alex said, letting out a small, amazed laugh. He knelt down, watching in awe as Rory toddled clumsily forward.

That’s when he noticed what had caught the baby’s attention—the red fire truck toy Alex had used earlier to entertain him.

“Oh, you want the truck,” Alex said with a smile. “Let me bring it closer to you.”

He crawled toward the toy, trying to push it closer—but his hand went straight through it.

“Oh, come on,” the ghost muttered in frustration, trying again. His fingers slipped through the toy once more.

“Not now,” Alex groaned, glaring at his own translucent hands. He focused harder, trying to make contact. “Please, not now!”

But once again, his hand phased through the toy.

“Agh!”

He shouted in frustration, wanting to punch the truck — but this damn time, he did manage to hit it, sending the fire truck flying across the living room until it crashed against a wall.

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Alex groaned again.

But Rory was too focused on his fire truck, so he started hurrying toward the wall.

“No, no, no, Rory!” Alex’s voice came out as a choked cry of panic. The baby, with the single-minded determination only a toddler discovering a new power could have, was wobbling his way toward the wall, eyes fixed on his goal — the fire truck lying motionless against it. Unfortunately, the toy had landed just beneath a wooden counter.

The world shrank for Alex — it was just that small, unsteady body and the counter. With every shaky step Rory took, Alex’s panic grew worse.

“Rory, no!” Alex yelled, trying to stop him — though he knew he couldn’t. “Rory, please stop!”

Just as Rory was about to reach the counter, he froze in place and started to wobble. For a brief second, Alex felt relief — the baby would just plop down on his butt like always — but then dread flooded him as Rory tipped forward instead.

“Rory!” Alex screamed, praying to any god that his energy could catch the child before he got hurt — but Rory passed right through him.

Then Alex froze as he heard a loud thud behind him. He was terrified to turn around, but the moment he heard Rory crying, he spun instantly. The baby was lying face-down on the floor, crying — and worst of all, Alex saw blood on his little face.

If Alex had blood, it would’ve run cold.

“Rory!” Kimberly screamed, rushing into the living room.

Alex stayed frozen as Kimberly knelt down to scoop up her son. From where he sat, he could see the small cut on Rory’s eyebrow — and more blood.

“K-Kim…” Alex stammered. “I tried— I didn’t mean—”

But Kimberly ignored him completely, too focused on her injured child.

“Thomas! Thomas!” she shouted, running toward the stairs, leaving Alex sitting against the wall in shock.

Moments later, Kimberly came back down with Thomas. Both of them looked panicked, and Kimberly still had Rory crying in her arms. Alex watched as they rushed to the door and left the house without another word.

Alex was terrified.

Nearly two hours later, Kimberly and Thomas came back home. Rory was sleeping peacefully in Kimberly’s arms.

“I’ll put him to bed,” Thomas said, heading toward the stairs. Kimberly nodded and watched him go.

“Sam? Wendy?” Kimberly called out, and Sam appeared almost immediately.

“How’s the baby? How are you and Thomas?” Sam asked right away.

“The bump was superficial, thankfully. Just a small bruise and the scare... He only hit a corner of the counter and—” Kimberly sighed. “It gave us all quite a fright.”

“It really did,” Sam nodded. “Alex was hysterical when he told Wendy and me what happened.”

Kimberly nodded silently as she sank onto the couch. Sam looked at her, then slowly sat down beside her.

“You should talk to him,” Sam said gently. “He’s really shaken up and hasn’t said a word since he explained what happened... I think he’s blaming himself.”

That was enough to catch her attention.

“What?”

“I think Alex is blaming himself for what happened to Rory,” Sam replied. “I hate seeing him like that, Kim. I think if you tell him it wasn’t his fault, he’ll feel better.” There was a short pause. “You don’t blame him, right?”

“What?” Kim frowned. “Of course not. It was an accident.”

“Then go tell him,” Sam said, nodding toward the stairs. “Because the kid’s sitting on the basement steps acting like a Victorian ghost.”

Kimberly nodded silently and stood up from the couch, walking through the house, already knowing exactly where she needed to go. She descended carefully, stopping at the top of the basement stairs when she saw the ghost she was looking for — Alex — sitting on the steps, arms wrapped around his legs, face buried between his knees.

She moved slowly, sitting down beside him without saying a word. They stayed like that for several long minutes before Kim finally sighed.

“Alex?” she asked softly.

“Leave me alone, Kim…” Alex murmured.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kim replied. “We need to talk.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex said, still not lifting his head.

“Alex…”

“You asked me to watch him, and I couldn’t. Rory got hurt.” His voice was quiet, but it was enough for Kimberly to hear him clearly.

“Alex, please listen to me,” Kimberly said gently, and the boy slowly raised his head.

“I couldn’t… I’ve never been able to protect anyone I love,” he said, looking briefly at her.

That was when Kimberly realized — this wasn’t just about Rory. The incident had unearthed something much deeper, something that had been buried for a long time.

“This isn’t just about Rory, is it?” she asked softly.

“How can I be a good babysitter if I’ve never been able to protect anyone?” Alex asked, sadness in his voice. “Tod died and I couldn’t do anything. Terry died when I tried to warn them about Death. Ms. Lewton died right in front of me while I tried to help. I managed to save Carter, but because of one mistake, Billy died… and Carter died later saving me from dying.”

“You saved Clear,” Kimberly reminded him.

“Only to leave her alone,” Alex answered sharply. “Even when I thought I could save her by dying…”

Kimberly frowned slightly, looking at him.

“What do you mean by that, Alex?” she asked, but he didn’t respond. “Alex…”

“I thought that if I died,” Alex said, his voice rising slightly, “…everything would stop.”

Another silence fell. Kimberly realized he wasn’t going to elaborate, but she still stayed there beside him.

“Alex,” she said again, gently, “what exactly happened the day you died?”

Alex bit his lower lip for a moment before answering.

“The night before it happened,” he began quietly, “we decided to go out for dinner — an Asian restaurant. We thought things were fine. We’d gone two weeks without any accidents, so maybe we’d let our guard down a little. I needed to use the bathroom, so… I went, thinking everything would be okay. But while I was washing my hands, I felt something… I felt Death nearby. When I came out of the bathroom, I ran to find Clear.”

Alex straightened up slightly.

“Something went wrong with the grills — there was a small explosion that sent several metal skewers flying straight toward Clear,” Alex continued explaining. “I barely managed to jump in and pull her out of the way, but one of the skewers cut her arm. After that, we ran back to our apartment.”

He slumped back down.

“When we got home, Clear was terrified, on edge, because she knew I was next. She was so… paranoid,” Alex said, shaking his head. “It took everything to get her to sleep that night. She wanted to stay awake to watch over me. I couldn’t sleep either — not because I was scared of dying or that something might happen to me. I couldn’t sleep because I kept watching Clear sleep.”

Kim stayed silent, shifting slightly on the stairs.

“Clear deserved a better life than the one she was stuck with because of me, you know?” Alex said, looking up at her. “So I thought… if I was the one who started all of this, maybe I could end it too. I thought everything would stop if I died.”

“Alex…”

“I tried to talk to Death,” he went on quietly. “I tried to tell it to take me, that I wouldn’t fight anymore, that it could have me if it would just let Clear live. So the next day, I got up, left the apartment, and went into the alley next to our building, and…”

“The brick,” Kim said softly, and Alex nodded slowly.

“Yeah. I never thought it would end like that — after surviving two explosions, a rogue chainsaw, a car crash, a ten-meter fall at a construction site… among other things,” Alex said, almost bitterly. “A couple of cats started fighting in the building next door, and the commotion made some construction materials fall. One of the bricks came loose — just as Clear saw me. It fell right when she stepped into the alley looking for me…”

He paused for a long moment.

“I died right in front of her,” Alex said. His voice had that tone of someone who would be crying if they still could. “I died thinking I’d done the last thing I could to help… but then…”

“I got her out of the hospital,” Kimberly interrupted softly, “and then she died.”

Alex looked at her, startled.

“I guess you can’t always cheat Death,” he finally said, lowering his head again, hiding his face between his knees.

Silence settled between them again — but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence shared by two people bound by the same thread of guilt and loss. Bound by the absence of the same person. Kimberly looked at Alex’s hands, wishing she could touch them, offer some comfort.

“No,” Kim said quietly but firmly. “You can’t always beat Death.”

Alex didn’t move, but Kim knew he was listening.

“You chose to sacrifice yourself for Clear, trying to save her,” she continued, her voice steady. “And that tells me that if you’d known about the new life pattern, you would’ve done the same — you would’ve gone to any length to save your friends. Alex, you are the bravest person — or ghost — I’ve ever met. You chose to die with the hope of saving someone.”

Finally, Alex lifted his head. His eyes looked wider, and even though he couldn’t cry, Kimberly swore she saw a faint shimmer in them.

“I chose wrong,” he whispered, his voice heavy with years of buried grief. “I chose wrong, and she died.”

“We both chose wrong, Alex. And Clear died,” Kim replied, without an ounce of accusation — not toward him, not toward herself. “I know we both think that if we’d done more, she’d still be alive. But the truth is, we both did everything we could to try.”

She leaned a little closer to him.

“But you didn’t throw yourself into an act of pure desperation,” Kimberly said more firmly. “You threw yourself in to save someone. You did everything you could to save the woman you loved, and now…”

“And now I’m a ghost.”

“And now you’re here,” Kim told him. “You’re here with me, with Thomas, with Sam, with Wendy — and with Rory.”

“And Rory got hurt because of me.”

“The accident wasn’t your fault, Alex. It was a slip-up that could’ve happened to me or to Thomas,” she said gently, trying to calm him. “But you did everything you could to stop it, because that’s who you are, Alex. You try to save everyone, and that’s the noblest thing you can do — that even with your new limitations, you still try to do good for others. You’re a good guy, Alex Browning.”

Alex looked at her, and for the first time, the thick, impenetrable layer of guilt he carried seemed to crack just enough to let a faint ray of light through — a ray of light from a star named Kimberly.

“Do you… think Clear would see it that way?” he asked, his voice fragile, like the teenager he still was.

“I know,” Kimberly said with strong conviction, “that Clear would be kicking your spectral ass right now for sitting here moping instead of being upstairs making sure Rory doesn’t get into more trouble. She knew you loved her, Alex — and she loved you just as much. And love, even when it ends in tragedy, is never the wrong choice. That’s what defines you, Alex — every single thing you do comes from love.”

A dry, broken sob shook Alex’s body. There were no tears, but the emotion was so raw that Kimberly could feel the chilling weight of his grief. And yet, somehow, it was a gentle kind of cold.

“You know pain doesn’t just vanish overnight,” Kim whispered. “It’s something you learn to carry. And sometimes, you find other people who help you hold it.”

Alex blinked, his expression softening.

“I miss her…” he whispered.

“I miss her too,” Kim replied, a sad smile on her face. “But the best thing we can do now is keep going — not forgetting her, but not chaining ourselves to the pain either. You’re the smiliest ghost I’ve ever met, Alex. You’re like Casper.”

Alex let out a small laugh at her words, ending in a real smile.

“And there’s no ghost in this world I’d trust more to look after my son than you,” Kimberly finished. “So cheer up — Rory loves spending time with his big brother.”

With that, Kim got up from the stairs and walked back toward the living room, leaving Alex behind with a small, lingering smile.

“Hey, anemic!” Alex heard Sam call from below. “You mind coming here?”

Alex frowned and got up, heading down the steps until he saw Sam standing in the middle of the basement.

“How long have you been there?” Alex asked.

“Long enough,” Sam replied with a faint smile as Alex approached.

“So what do you want? To make fun of me?” Alex said, crossing his arms. “Because if that’s the case, let me tell you—”

But he didn’t get to finish, because Sam suddenly pulled him into a hug.

“Let go of me!” Alex protested, startled and squirming. “What the hell are you doing!?”

“Giving you a hug,” Sam said simply. “You need one.”

“I don’t want a hug from you, let me go,” Alex kept protesting, trying to break free from Sam’s grip.

“Alex…”

“Let me go!” Alex finally shoved him away, making Sam take a step back. “I don’t want your hugs ever again, and—”

Sam didn’t care. He stepped forward and hugged Alex again.

“Thank you,” Sam said softly.

“What?” Alex frowned. “Why are you thanking me?”

“When I died… I woke up in that dark room. I spent months there, all alone. I thought I was going to lose my mind,” Sam said quietly. “But the moment you showed up, a small light appeared. The room wasn’t so dark anymore.”

Alex stopped struggling.

“Your company was that light… and you have no idea how grateful I am for it,” Sam continued. “Because as irritating as you can be, having you around is… actually comforting. And honestly, my sanity — and Kim’s too — would’ve fallen apart long ago without you.”

A faint smile curved Alex’s lips.

“I love you, Alex. You’re like the little brother I never wanted, but somehow, exactly the one I needed,” Sam whispered.

Alex couldn’t say anything. He just buried his face in Sam’s shoulder and stayed there.

“I love you too, Sam,” Alex replied, starting to cry. When he did, he held on even tighter.

Sam felt a tear slide down his cheek. He turned his head toward the stairs, where Wendy stood watching them, her own eyes glistening. She smiled weakly at him. Sam reached out a hand for her to join them, but she shook her head softly.

She knew this was their moment — one that had been owed between brothers for a long, long time.