When Mom returned with Ryan, it was already late at night.

I drifted through the narrow staircase and quickly floated over to them. "You're back!"

They were chatting happily, completely absorbed in their conversation. Neither of them heard me. Mom even cupped Ryan's cheeks and kissed him several times in a row.

"Ryan, you're such a little genius. You even know about integrated circuits and Moore's Law! I'll make sure to nurture your talents so that one day you'll achieve even more than I ever did."

Integrated circuits and Moore's Law?

"I told Ryan about those! Mom, can you kiss me too?" I said.

I floated closer and tried to nuzzle against Mom's cheek, only to watch helplessly as I passed straight through her.

I nearly forgot. I was dead.

Mom never praised me when I was alive. How could I expect anything now that I was gone?

Ryan rubbed his cheek against her shoulder and promised earnestly, "I will."

Mom rubbed the back of her neck and glanced toward the window, looking slightly uneasy. "The windows are closed, aren't they? Why is there still a draft?"

Hearing that, Ryan quickly ran to the fireplace and turned up the heat.

Mom's expression softened immediately. She looked at him with warmth and pride. "Ryan, you really are my sweet boy. If only your lying sister were half as easy to handle as you…"

The warmth in Mom's eyes disappeared, replaced by impatience and irritation. She set her bag down and made her way to the attic.

"Jessie, have you realized your mistake yet?"

She pushed the door open and found me slumped over my knees, with my back turned to her. I stayed silent.

"You won't speak? Do you honestly think I can't detect the devil signal from the chip just because you're quiet?

"Jessie, you're 11 now. You're not a baby. Are you expecting me to coax you downstairs and tuck you in?"

I floated beside Mom and watched her face twitch with anger as she cranked the electric shock dial higher and higher.

"Mom, please, don't be angry. I'm already dead. I didn't mean to upset you..."

She still couldn't hear me. Her fury only intensified.

"Fine, then stay silent. Your Dad lied, cheated, and gambled. He ended up getting hacked to death, and I guess you want to follow in his footsteps. Since you're so fond of the attic, stay here tonight. Stay here forever!"

The door slammed with a thunderous bang, dislodging a loose wooden board from the attic ceiling.

I flinched, but for some reason, I felt a strange flicker of relief.

It seemed that Mom truly loved me. She just couldn't bear the thought of me turning out like Dad.

I floated after her downstairs and saw Ryan standing before a towering pile of Christmas presents.

"Mom, are all of these for me?"

Mom smiled. "Of course. Except for that workbook over there, they're all yours. How I wish I had only had you."

Could someone still feel heartache after dying?

It hurt even more than it ever did when I was alive.

Numb, I drifted back to the attic. At some point, a storm had begun to rage outside.

Thunder rolled, and lightning split the sky.

A loose board had fallen beside me. Above, the attic roof had collapsed in part, and sheets of rain poured through.

In an instant, I was drenched.

Years of electric shocks had left me terrified of thunderstorms. Each flash of lightning made my heart race. I always felt as if a bolt might hit me at any moment.

The storm intensified. I was still wearing the cartoon pajamas I had begged Mom for last year, but now they were miserably soaked through.

The heavy rain drenched everything, and in the corner, my thin body stayed still, teetering on the edge of collapse.

I floated helplessly above my body, trying to soothe myself, though I knew it was useless.

"It's okay. Everything will be over soon."

The morning sun finally broke through the clouds. Mom had set the table for breakfast for the three of us and opened my door, only to find me still in the attic. Her temper flared immediately. "How can you be this dumb? The door wasn't even locked, and you still haven't come back to your room?"

If I had heard this in the past, I might have believed Mom was strict on the outside but gentle at heart, that she cared for me. However, after a night of heavy rain, with my body getting soaked and then drying, that thought had vanished.

Ryan ran upstairs and opened the attic door. "Jessie, come out and eat!" he called.

Then, he turned to Mom. "She's still sleeping!"

Mom frowned deeply. "Is she a pig? How can she sleep this long?"

She hurried upstairs, and when she saw me still in the same position from the night before, she froze. "Jessie, you stayed like this all night?"

She snapped, "Are you sulking at me? What did I say that was wrong? Even now, your signal is all devil! Was I born to suffer because of you? Aren't you getting up? Who taught you to throw tantrums like this? I've treated you and Ryan exactly the same from the start, so why do you always come up short?"

Mom walked toward me. Just as her hand was about to reach me, Ryan suddenly called out, "Mom, can we go now? I can't wait to ride the pirate ship with you!"

Mom glared at me for a moment, then clenched her teeth in anger. "Fine. If you won't talk, you won't get breakfast or go to the amusement park. Walk out of that door on your own, or don't expect me to care about you!"

This time, she left so quickly that I didn't even notice which cute cartoon doll Ryan had pinned on her. I didn't even manage to finish saying, "Mom, don't ignore me."

I tried to chase after her, but I soon realized I was trapped in the house like a ghost. Mom had only taken me to an amusement park once, when I was six. The moment we walked in, I needed the bathroom. The devil signal convinced her I was lying, and I was locked in the restroom all day.

By the time the fireworks were finished, Mom finally came to get me.

After that, she never took me to an amusement park again. Ryan, however, went every year.

I stared at the spot on my scalp where the chip had been implanted. For the first time, a thought crossed my mind. Was my chip really the same as Ryan's? It couldn't be. It had to be different.

Mom's invention had made her famous nationwide for scientific parenting, so the problem had to be me. I was the useless one, just like the father I had never even met.

Mom and Ryan didn't return until late that evening. She glanced into my room, snorted coldly, and walked away. After a while, she left some snacks and a blanket outside the attic door.

For the next three days, she never climbed the narrow stairs again. The fireplace kept the house warm, and with the rain falling again and again, my body was soaked and dried repeatedly until a sour smell began to spread.

Ryan nearly gagged when he passed the stairs. "Mom, it smells horrible. What's that smell?"

Mom let out a cold sneer. "Your lying sister probably hasn't showered. Of course it smells."

She pulled a curtain across the stairway and sprayed some perfume. "There. Come on, Ryan. I'm taking you to the zoo!"

By the seventh day after my death, the perfume and curtain could no longer hide the smell of my decaying body. Mom frowned as she climbed the stairs, gagging again and again until she finally put on a mask.

The snacks and blanket outside the attic door hadn't been touched. Her hand trembled slightly on the doorknob.

I couldn't contain my excitement. "Mom, open the door! Please notice me!"

The lock slowly turned. Mom muttered under her breath, "It can't be anything serious, right?"

The phone suddenly rang. Mom answered immediately. "What? There's a problem with the experimental data? Alright, I'll be there right away."

The door had barely opened a crack before she shut it again. From outside, she called impatiently, "Jessie, you've been eating, sleeping, and living in that attic. If you don't shower soon, you'll grow a whole forest on yourself!

"Get out here, take a bath, and reflect on what you've done. Don't disgust us anymore! If you haven't cleaned up before I get back from work, you're writing a ten-thousand-word reflection essay!"

I froze.

Just a little more, and she would have found me.

I didn't want to keep rotting like this.

I liked being clean. I liked being pretty. I didn't want to smell like a decaying corpse.

All I could do was stare helplessly as she walked away.

Ryan had somehow read that wet clothes could absorb odors. He had actually soaked every piece of clothing in my closet and stuffed them into the crack under the door to block the smell.

However, the stench of a corpse was far too strong.

The weather was unusually hot that day. By the time Mom came home from work, the entire house was filled with the foul reek of decay.

Neighbors were already gathered outside, pointing and whispering among themselves. Some complained that Mom was polluting the neighborhood. Others threatened to call the police.

Everyone had something to say, but no one heard me screaming.

Mom apologized politely to the neighbors before storming up to the attic in anger. "Jessie! Are you trying to kill me? Isn't embarrassing me at home enough? Do you have to make sure everyone knows what a failure I am as a mother?"

She shoved the door open forcefully, only to stagger back as the smell of decay hit her. The attic light was broken. Mom pinched her nose and stepped inside slowly. Only then did she notice that I hadn't moved at all.

"Jessie? Jessie?"

Mom turned anxious. "Don't think you can scare me like this. The chip just sent me a devil signal. Get up and go take a shower…"

The moment she touched me, Mom froze. I was cold, stiff, and decayed in a way that no living being could ever feel.

"Jessie!"

With a single push from Mom, my corpse slumped to the side, still fixed in the same pose.

By the attic's leaky corner, the moonlight finally revealed my bluish-white, distorted face.

Mom's scream tore through the night.