Sharlene sat at her desk, but her thoughts were miles away. She couldn't focus—not with Ashley, her daughter, lying comatose in a hospital bed.
The doctors declared her condition yesterday.
My God… why my child? she thought as she stared blankly ahead. Why not me instead?
She clenched her jaw and fought back the tears. Now wasn't the time to break down. Ashley needed her to be strong.
After the tragedy, all classes were suspended in basic education. The administration had urged everyone to take time to recover. Meetings had already been held with the school's owner and department heads. Support was being organized for the families of the victims. It had been a devastating accident—one no one had foreseen.
It wasn't just the school's reputation that had been shattered. Everyone knew where the blame truly lay: with the poor safety measures, particularly the faulty vehicle used for the field trip.
Sharlene was one of those set to receive support. She'd overheard that only a handful of students had survived the crash.
Was Ashley one of them? She wondered, her heart heavy with worry.
Among three critically injured children, Ashley had been the only one to survive—but just barely. The rest of the kindergartners suffered minor bruises, thankfully not life-threatening.
But eight children had died. Eight out of twenty-five. Their bright futures extinguished far too soon.
Sharlene's hands trembled as she stared into space.
"Sharlene."
She turned her head toward the voice. It was one of her coworkers.
"Are you alright?" her colleague asked, clearly concerned. Sharlene gave a weak nod and forced a smile.
"Maybe take a short break," her colleague suggested gently.
"I can't," she said quietly. "I have to keep working—for my daughter."
Her coworker sighed but nodded, respecting her choice.
"Just… don't forget to take care of yourself, too," they said before walking away.
"Thank you," was all Sharlene could whisper.
Later, after her classes, Sharlene stepped out. She still had a free period, but her head throbbed from lack of sleep. She hadn't rested at all—she had stayed up all night at the hospital, watching over Ashley. Now, exhaustion was consuming her.
She massaged her temples, trying to ease the pain. Her vision blurred, and as she closed her eyes, sleep took over.
Mom... Mom... Mom.
A voice echoed in her ears, calling to her in a soft, wavering tone. At first, she thought it was a dream.
Mom...
Now the voice was weeping.
Sharlene opened her eyes, startled. But the world around her had changed. She was surrounded by darkness—an endless, shadowy void.
And there, not far ahead, stood a small child.
Ashley.
Her daughter's face was tear-streaked. Without hesitation, Sharlene rushed toward her.
"Ashley! Why—why are you here?" she asked, panicked.
The little girl clung to her. Around them, eerie figures drifted. Some sat silently in corners, their eyes hollow, their spirits dim.
Sharlene's heart ached. She spotted Ashley crouched alone in a corner of a translucent room, separated from her by some invisible force.
"Child, why are you trapped in there?" She asked again, reaching for her daughter's hand through the veil.
"She can't get out of there, Sharlene."
A voice answered.
Sharlene turned. She gasped.
It was her grandmother—Felicia. Younger. Stronger. Alive in a way that no longer made sense.
"Grandma? Why are you locked up?" Sharlene asked, confusion twisting inside her.
"They locked us up here," Felicia replied.
Two other unfamiliar spirits stood beside her, imprisoned as well.
"Who locked you up? And why is Ashley here? My daughter isn't dead!" Sharlene demanded, her voice rising with fear and anger.
"You're the only one who can set us free," Felicia said gently. "Reach for my hand, Sharlene. You are the key."
"The key?" Sharlene echoed, her brows furrowing.
Her instincts screamed at her not to trust this. But her child—her precious child—was right there, trapped in a place that felt wrong. If freeing them could bring Ashley back, shouldn't she try?
"When you're free, will you help me get my child out of here?" she asked the spirits.
Both of Felicia's companions nodded eagerly.
"Then reach for my hand," Felicia said, extending it toward her.
Sharlene hesitated. She glanced toward Ashley. The little girl shook her head slowly. Her mouth moved as if trying to warn her, but Sharlene couldn't hear the words.
Just a little more... I have to help you, Ashley, she told herself, stepping closer.
But before their hands could meet, another hand stopped her.
A firm grip.
Sharlene turned sharply, startled—and then frozen.
A woman in mourning clothes stood before her, her face shrouded in shadows. But as she stepped forward, Sharlene's eyes widened in disbelief.
No. It couldn't be…
"Do you still remember me, Sharlene?" The woman asked softly, her voice strangely familiar.
She looked up—and saw a smile that was both haunting and familiar.
"Leah?" she whispered.
The woman beamed. A calm, eerie smile.
The Leah from her childhood dreams had never looked like this. The eyes—full of fury, of secrets—were nothing like the warmth she once remembered.
Leah chuckled.
"Oh dear… I didn't carry the same memory into this life as I did before," she said, as if reading Sharlene's thoughts.
"What do you mean?" Sharlene asked, completely rattled.
Leah turned her eyes toward Felicia.
"Why don't you ask your grandmother?"