Did I get superpowers from that fall, just like the characters in TV shows?

The thought made my heart race. If I truly had special abilities, could I simply fly back home? I wondered if Mom would praise me for being so impressive.

I tried stretching my foot toward the wall. When it actually passed through, a wave of shock and joy washed over me. I dashed around the warehouse, passing through one box after another. It was exactly like the shows!

However, why couldn't I touch anything? This question quietly crept into my mind like a tiny insect. I decided to push it aside for now and head home first. I wanted to go home.

The moment that desire surfaced, the scenery blurred before my eyes. Wind roared past my ears as roads, trees, and streetlights whizzed by. A second later, I was really standing at the front door of my home.

I rushed through the door. "Mom, I'm back! I think I can do magic now!"

Mom had her back to me as she worked in the kitchen. The stove was crowded with dishes, and the aroma of braised ribs filled the entire house. It was Raymond's birthday.

I called out again. "Mom?"

She didn't turn around. It was as if she hadn't heard me. My chest tightened. In the past, whenever I made a mistake, she would ignore me like this until I apologized. She must still be angry.

I decided to look for Raymond instead. He would definitely be stunned to see me walking through walls.

Just then, the door opened. Dad walked in looking exhausted from his travels. However, there was a smile on his face and a toy train in his hand.

Mom wiped her hands and went to greet him. "You must be tired."

Dad said gently, "I took a few days off. Just in time to spend Ray's birthday with him."

"Dad!" I shouted.

I ran toward him, but he walked right past me to Mom as she came to greet him.

Raymond ran out of his room sobbing and threw himself into Dad's arms. "Dad! Go get Emilia back! Mr. Harris took her! Mom said she doesn't want her anymore!"

Dad froze and looked at Mom. "What's going on?"

Mom walked over quickly and whispered into Dad's ear, "Ray wouldn't stop stealing money no matter what I said, so I made a deal with Mr. Harris, the owner of the neighborhood grocery store. We staged an act to scare Ray and said Emilia was given to him as compensation."

Dad's brow furrowed instantly. "This is ridiculous! What if this goes too far? Where is Emilia?"

Mom sounded relaxed. "She's in Mr. Harris' warehouse, and she's perfectly safe. I've settled everything with him. She won't go hungry. You didn't see how Ray was before. If he doesn't feel the pain, he'll never learn his lesson!"

I heard everything she said. It was all just an act! Mom hadn't abandoned me! A wave of heat surged to my head, and I felt so happy I wanted to jump. My body lifted slightly off the floor.

Raymond was still weeping. "Dad, please bring Emilia back. I'm begging you. I'll never steal money again!"

I floated over to Raymond, wanting to pinch his cheek. "Stop crying, you little dummy. We were both fooled."

My fingers slid right through his face.

At that moment, Dad said sternly, "Ray, you did something very wrong this time. Emilia has to face the consequences for your mistake."

The light in Raymond's eyes vanished.

"Mom!" I said.

I drifted beside Mom while she plated the braised ribs. I tried to hug her from behind, but my arms passed through her torso. "Mom, thank you for not throwing me away."

She couldn't hear me. She turned with the plate in her hands and walked through me toward the dining table.

Dad ruffled Raymond's hair. "Ray is crying so hard. I think this is enough. I'll go bring Emilia back first thing tomorrow morning."

Mom's voice turned cold. "Wait two more days. He needs to fully understand that some mistakes result in permanent loss."

"But Emilia—"

Mom cut him off. "Emilia has food and water at Mr. Harris' place, and she's perfectly safe. This time, we have to be firm."

Two more days? I was right here, though.

I drifted between my parents and waved my arms frantically. "Dad! Mom! I'm right here! Can't you see me? I'm back! I'm really back!"

Mom suddenly shivered and rubbed her arms. "Why does it feel so cold all of a sudden?"

She walked to the window and closed it, completely unaware that I was standing in front of her. My hand went right through her shoulder.

Why couldn't I touch her? Why couldn't she see or hear me?

A cold voice echoed in my mind. "It's because I'm dead."

The realization washed over me and left me frozen. I hovered blankly in the kitchen, watching Mom set the dishes on the table.

Raymond shoved his food onto the floor and wailed, "I'm not eating if Emilia isn't here!"

Mom raised her hand as if to strike him, then stopped herself. She said coldly, "If you don't eat, then stay hungry."

She bent down, picked up the food scattered on the floor, and threw it into the trash. Her movements were brisk, as though she were throwing away something she no longer needed. It was just like the way she had discarded me.

The thought suddenly surfaced and made me tremble. Memories of things I once failed to understand began to flood back.

Mom once told the neighbor with a smile, "Emilia is my lucky charm. As soon as she was born, Raymond came right after. She really brings us good luck."

Back then, I didn't understand what that meant; I only knew that Mom smiled brightly while stroking my hair. However, after Raymond was born, she rarely stroked my hair. Her eyes followed him constantly. She held him, kissed him, and called him her sweetheart.

Dad was the same. The first thing he asked when he got home from work was always, "Where's Ray?"

His shoulders became Raymond's personal seat, while I could only trail behind, carefully tugging at his shirt, afraid that he might forget me.

Once, when I had a fever, I curled up in the corner of the couch. After Mom finished feeding Raymond, she finally came over to check my temperature. Frowning, she said with annoyance, "You're burning up. You're only making things harder."

In the end, Dad got up in the middle of the night to carry me to the hospital. He sighed on the way and told me, "Emilia, you're the older sister. You need to be responsible and not tire Mom out."

So, this was what it meant to be a lucky charm—my purpose had ended the moment Raymond was born. I was no longer a blessing; I was just an older sister who was expected to be sensible.

…

When they were nearly done eating, Mom brought out a cake and placed the candles on it.

Raymond was forced to make a wish. He started sobbing again. "I wish for Emilia to come back."

"Stop crying! Your sister is taking the punishment for you! If you don't change, next time—"

Mom didn't finish the sentence, but her gaze was ice cold.

Dad stepped in to smooth things over. "Alright, your wish will come true."

"Really?" Raymond asked.

"Yes, I promise," Dad replied.

A spark of hope lit up Raymond's eyes.

However, I was already back. I floated above the cake, watching the flickering flames. Their wish had already come true; they just didn't know it.

…

After dinner, Mom washed dishes at the sink. I wanted to wipe the sweat from her forehead, but my hand passed right through it. She used to complain all the time that my hands were cold. Now, I couldn't even touch her.

Dad walked over with his brows tightly furrowed. "Should we go get Emilia? She gets scared easily."

Mom looked up immediately, her voice firm. "No. If we bring her back now, the lesson for Ray is wasted. It's only been a day; he won't learn anything yet."

"I have a bad feeling," Dad said. "Emilia has been afraid of the dark since she was little. I don't even know if there are any lights on in Mr. Harris' warehouse."

"There's a light. I specifically told him to keep a light on at night," Mom answered.

I wanted to tell them that there were no lights in the warehouse, only a high window. I tried desperately to inform them of that, but my voice sounded like nothing more than wind whistling through a crack.

Suddenly, an idea struck me. I focused all my energy and stared at the chandelier in the kitchen, imagining that it was my hand and my eyes.

I pleaded silently in my mind, "Flicker, just once."

With a soft click, the light actually flickered once.

Mom looked up and asked, "Is the voltage unstable?"

"Probably," Dad replied dismissively.

I focused my energy again. This time, I stared at the family photo on the refrigerator. It was taken last year, with me standing in the middle wearing a yellow dress.

"Fall down. Let them see me," I thought.

The photo didn't move at all. I tried again, using all my energy. The edge of the picture lifted slightly before falling back into place. I wondered if this was the extent of my capabilities.

Mom wrapped up the cake she had set aside and put it into the fridge. I knew that it was meant for me, but I would never be able to eat it again.

Late into the night, neither of my parents slept. Mom sat in the living room, folding my dresses and my socks. She worked slowly, picking each item up only to put it down again. She held up my favorite red dress. Her fingers lingered on the tiny flower at the neckline for a long time.

Dad stood on the balcony, smoking one cigarette after another. His muffled voice drifted through the glass door. "Do you think Emilia might feel like we've abandoned her? She's observant and sensitive."

"She won't," Mom answered, though her voice lacked conviction.

"I gave Mr. Harris very clear instructions. We're just scaring Ray for two days, and he's supposed to provide her with plenty of food and water. Once we bring her back, we'll explain everything and treat her even better."

They fell silent for a long while.

Dad put out his cigarette and sighed. "I'm still uneasy. I'm going to get Emilia right now. Acting is one thing, but we can't actually let her spend the night there. She must be terrified."

Just as Dad's hand touched the doorknob, Mom shouted, "If you dare go tonight, I'm taking Ray and leaving!"

Dad froze. "She's only eight years old."

Mom refused to back down. "If you bring her back now, she will suffer for nothing, and Ray will be scared for nothing. This house will never know peace again. Do you want to raise a thief, or do you want to destroy this family?"

"But Emilia—"

Mom cut him off. "She's perfectly safe. Mr. Harris took my money to do a job; he knows what he's doing. If you go now, you're humiliating me and ruining this family."

Dad slowly turned around. Under the light, his face looked pale. I noticed that his fingers were trembling. When he used to hold me, those hands were large and steady, lifting me high into the air. Now, they shook violently.

I floated in front of him. "Go, Dad. If you come get me, I'll tell you that I don't blame you. I just fell once. It didn't hurt."

I concentrated my energy once more, not on the light or the photo, but on Dad. I wanted him to sense my presence.

I reached out my transparent hands and gently placed them over his trembling ones. Even though I couldn't touch him, I could feel the warmth of his palms.

Dad suddenly froze. He looked down at his hands. His eyes were clouded with confusion.

"What's wrong?" Mom asked.

"It's nothing," Dad murmured. "I just feel like Emilia is here."

Mom's tone softened slightly. "You're imagining things. Go to sleep; we'll talk tomorrow."

He spoke again at last. His voice was so quiet it was barely audible. "Just two days. I'll go get her immediately after two days."

Mom stared at him. "You promise?"

Dad didn't speak. He only nodded very slowly. He turned and walked back to the couch, sinking into it as he covered his face with his hands. The light from the chandelier fell upon his head, revealing several strands of white hair that hadn't been there before.

I drifted before him, wanting to touch his hair, yet my hand still passed right through. It turned out that after dying, I couldn't even comfort Dad.

At that moment, the door to Raymond's bedroom creaked open just a crack. He peeked through the opening with one eye, and he was terrified. He had heard everything.