A few days have passed since then. Each one has followed the same quiet rhythm: breakfast, a walk through the forest, lunch, bathing in the river, the walk back, dinner, and sleep. Repetition became our routine, yet within it, I discovered more and more about myself.

Beyond not feeling hunger nor needing sleep, I learned I don’t get tired. I don’t sweat. I can float, fly, and even pass through solid objects. When Raquel read to me that book before, he explained I was a spirit—specifically, a guardian-type.

But honestly, I think I’m not the same as those. I’ve come to the conclusion that my body has died and when my spirit was about to go to the afterlife, it got intercept and was summoned here. In conclusion, I’m a human spirit, in other words – a ghost.

I haven’t told Raquel. I don’t want to scare him, though I’m not sure if ghosts frighten him. I just don’t want to do anything reckless around the kid.

‘Wait, since I'm bound to the kid... does that make me a haunting ghost? Don’t ghosts haunt those they have intense emotions for? Like hatred, regret, love and etc.? Then why am I haunting a kid I don’t know?’

I had no answers. So, I pushed the thought aside and floated quietly beside him, keeping my silent watch.

“Sister, what should we do today?” Raquel asked, his bright voice breaking through my thoughts.

As a child, he should be thinking of nothing more than playing and learning. Maybe I should help him read properly. He mispronounced some words when reading to me last time. Remembering how Director Elle used to teach us at the orphanage brought back warm memories. But it also made me realize something—I hardly know anything about Raquel at all. Other than his name and the fact that he lives alone, everything else is a mystery.

“Hey, Raquel... how old are you?” I asked gently.

He beamed. “I’m six years old!”

I smiled back. “Still six, huh? When’s your birthday?”

“I turn seven on July 10th!” he said proudly.

I paused. “Then… what’s today’s date?” I asked worried if his birthday had just passed recently.

“Oh… I don’t know…” he answered in a low voice.

My heart ached. Of course, he doesn’t know. There’s no calendar here—and he’s been alone for two years. I reached out and stroked his hair, trying to comfort him, when a terrible thought hit me.

‘How does he know he’s six if he doesn’t know the date? And he’s been living alone here for two years… Don’t tell me…’

“Raquel,” I asked gently, “did you count your birthdays yourself? Or did someone tell you?”

“My mom did! She said, ‘Happy 6th birthday!’” he replied with a smile so wide and innocent it crushed me.

I smiled back, but my heart sank.

‘Didn’t he mention 2 death anniversaries of his mother had already passed? Then does that mean it’s at least been 2 years since his 6th birthday?’ I can’t tell his exact age since that’s all the information I know. And there might some death anniversaries of his mother that his auntie didn’t come… And I didn't question his age since he had the same height as those who are 6 years old, but then again, he barely got any proper nutrition...

I just continued stroking his hair, and he leaned into the touch like a cat seeking affection.

Then suddenly, the door slammed open.

I flinched hard, nearly jumping from the shock. My eyes narrowed at the intruder—a young woman in a maid uniform, slinging a filthy sack over her shoulder.

“Hey, brat! Here’s your food!” she shouted.

The joy drained from Raquel’s face. He now cowered, his head hanging low.

My fury surged. 'After all this time, they come now only to treat him like this?' I stormed toward her, ready to give her a piece of my mind.

“Hey! That’s no way to talk to—”

But I was suddenly cut off.

“Tsk. Murderer.” She spoke with spite and walked out without another word.

I froze.

‘What… did she just say?’

‘Wait. Did she just ignore me? Or did she not see me?’

I stared at the door, stunned. The word echoed in my mind—murderer. What did she mean?

I turned to Raquel. He was trembling, curled like a frightened puppy.

I thought about following the maid to possibly hear more details, but I decided I should prioritize Raquel’s emotional state so I ran back to his side to comfort him.

'I guess she doesn’t see me since I’m a ghost…' Then suddenly, a wicked thought crept into my mind, and I let a sinister smile spread across my face.

Raquel hugged me tightly for comfort, but then looked up—and froze.

“S-Sister?” he asked, pale-faced.

‘Oh no… I must look terrifying. Even Director used to tell me to never smile like that… oh gosh.’

Quickly, I softened my expression. “Raquel, I’m going to do something fun. Stay close, but don’t make a sound, okay?”

He nodded.

I floated after the maid, light as air. Since she couldn’t see me, I decided to play a little trick.

I tugged at her shoulder, then gave a little pull on the tip of her hair. She paled instantly, eyes darting around.

Then I pulled her ear.

She bolted like she’d seen death itself.

“Hmph,” I huffed with a smug grin, arms crossed. That’s what you get.

If that’s how she treats Raquel, I’d rather she not come at all.

But… what did she mean by murderer?

I’ve decided not to ask Raquel, since I don’t think this is an appropriate thing to ask a kid.

When I returned, he ran to me and hugged my leg tightly, his laughter muffled against my side.

I laughed along, stroking his hair once more.