My name is Teresia Oblen.
People call me Terry, and I'm eight years old.
I can see ghosts.
From the moment I was born, I could see the dead.
And not just see them—I can touch them.
Of course, their bodies are ice-cold, so it's not like I want to, but just because I don't want to touch or bump into them doesn't mean I can avoid it.
I don't really know why. It's as natural to me as breathing or blinking, something I've lived with since birth.
Of course, the only reason I know for certain that I saw ghosts from the moment I was born is because my mother told me so.
'Terry.'
My mother, Ipia Oblen, was the wisest, kindest, and most beautiful person in the world.
I'm not exaggerating. Every ghost in the Oblen estate would swear it on every drop of blood in their bodies—well, they're dead, but still.
…Though she passed away before I even turned five!
And the so-called father? The moment she died, he dragged his hidden mistress and illegitimate child right into the mansion and abandoned me!
As if that weren't enough, that so-called half-brother Lawrence can't go a single day without trying to torment me…!
I, Teresia Oblen, have survived all eight years of my life without surrendering to wretches like them.
See? I really am amazing.
A boy who looked about my age hung upside down midair, staring at me like I was hopeless.
That boy was Tommy, the ghost who'd lived on this estate since before I was born—and my one and only friend.
I shot him a sideways look but didn't really glare.
"Quiet, Tommy. Every ghost here said they've never met a kid as smart as me."
I'd grown up hearing all sorts of stories from ghosts who were hundreds of years old.
I'd even heard about ancient punishments—nightmare-level stuff.
Tommy always freaked out and tried to stop them, but ghosts do whatever they want and dump random bits of knowledge in my ears anyway.
With their help, I finished every book in the library by the time I was seven. My confidence is well-earned.
Thankfully, Tommy didn't argue back.
Feeling a bit smug, I took a crunchy bite of the apple in my hand.
My lap was piled high with snacks and treats.
"Aaaagh! You thief! You stole my snacks again!"
I never said they were mine.
A shrieking voice grew louder from far away.
This time, I let a wicked smile curl across my lips and looked down.
A plump boy with light brown hair and sky-blue eyes stomped into view, fuming.
"Where are you hiding?! Come out right now! I said come out!"
His face, red and screwed up in anger, was quite a sight.
To think that thing shares half my blood.
"What a dark age."
I clicked my tongue and swung my legs from a tall tree branch in the garden—right above Lawrence's head.
Tommy, lying limply in the air beside me, muttered like he'd lost all hope.
"Hey, Tommy! He wants his snacks back! Go on—throw him this!"
I ignored him and handed over a handful of candy with a bright grin.
Go on, swear at a smiling face. I dare you.
Grinning like a saint with a knife behind her back, I watched Tommy sigh deeply before floating upward with the candy.
"You thief! If you don't kneel and apologize right now, I'll tell my dad and—!"
Just as Lawrence was yelling empty threats at a random wall—
A bright shout, followed by a pink candy dropping straight onto his head.
"Ow! Wh-what—?!"
Lawrence jumped up in terror, clutching his head as he stared at the sky with wide, trembling eyes.
Then more candies rained down, in every color.
"Aaagh! Mom! Daaaad!"
Three, four, five.
After being pelted with a cheerful yet painful shower of sweets, Lawrence ran screaming back into the mansion.
Chewing on a mouthful of apple, I watched Tommy chase him off like some exorcist who smites evil spirits from another realm.
Ah. Sweet and sweet.
After enjoying my meal, I slipped away from prying eyes and headed to the library in the annex.
Technically, it's reserved for the baron's family, but since no one but me goes near books, the place is halfway abandoned.
Sometimes servants sneak in here to hide or have secret rendezvous, but—
"Kyah!"
"Gyaaah!"
A single pass through a person's body and they bolt with their hair standing on end. Problem solved!
Once Tommy chased out the loitering servants, his eyes sharpened as he looked at me. I nodded with the solemnity of a warrior preparing for battle.
"Let's begin."
What followed was… brutal.
"You wretch! You're not even worth a box of crayons!"
Exhausting.
"Dog bastard!"
"Jerk!"
It was a trial of endurance and pride.
After finishing this rigorous self-esteem training with Tommy, I returned to the main building around sunset.
Avoiding the servants with practiced ease, we slipped into the portrait room at the far end of the second-floor hall.
"Cough."
I waved my hand through the floating dust as I crossed the room.
I stopped before a portrait of a woman with my exact features: silver-platinum hair and deep teal eyes.
Set against dark navy curtains, Ipia Oblen stood alone—lonely yet dignified.
"So dusty…"
I murmured and gently blew the dust from the painting. Then I sat down in front of it.
Staring silently for a long time, I heard Tommy whisper.
"…Yeah. I know."
Which is why I miss her even more.
I swallowed the rest of my thoughts, staying quiet.
If I said "I miss you," I felt like tears might fall.
Tommy seemed to know exactly what I didn't say, staying beside me without a word.
I was grateful for that.
After a quiet moment of contemplation, we stood and walked out.
I tried to lighten the mood and was just about to wonder aloud where Lawrence would hide his treats tomorrow when—
"Hey, thief."
A voice called out. Someone stood at the far end of the corridor, arms crossed, right in front of the stairs.
Only one person in this mansion calls me that in that tone.
"Lawrence."
And that chubby belly of his? Hard to miss.
"You, you…"
He uncrossed his arms and stomped toward me.
His shoulders shook, and his breathing was rough—he was furious.
Great.
Did I steal something he especially liked today?
Annoyed, I clicked my tongue inwardly as he approached.
Stopping right in front of me, Lawrence glared with bloodshot eyes.
"Apologize."
"For what?"
"You stole my snacks again! Kneel and apologize!"
His voice was loud enough to shake the hall.
I glanced toward the stairs, worried the servants might hear and come over.
Should I run?
Tsk, annoying.
Getting caught by the baron or Carlotta because of this brat would be a pain. Better to slip away—
What he said next stabbed straight into my ears, impossible to ignore.
"There's a limit to pity! My dad saved your failing baron family, and your grandpa begged him to marry his daughter out of gratitude! And she still talked back to my dad, so she was punished and died—!"
"What?"
Tommy and I spoke at the same time, our voices ice-cold.