Three days had passed since the last visit from that awful maid—and ever since, a different one had come each day. Without fail, they’d barge in, their faces twisted in disdain, and toss down a filthy sack. Sometimes it held wilted vegetables, other times it was nothing more than a pile of foul-smelling garbage. But worse than the stench were the words they hurled.

“Murderer.”

“Ungrateful brat.”

“Disgusting little creep.”

I didn’t understand why they said those things. What did they mean? But every time their venomous voices echoed through the cabin, I could feel something inside me burn—hot and restless. My fists clenched, and my eyes locked onto them with pure fury.

Whenever one of them raised a hand against Raquel, I would try to stop them—grabbing their wrists mid-swing, glaring with all the rage I could muster. Sometimes it worked. My hand would connect, freezing theirs in place. But not always. Sometimes, I’d just pass right through them.

There were just some people I couldn’t touch at all.

I watched as those despicable women struck him. I saw the way his small body curled in pain, trembling and helpless. My fists swung in blind fury, trying to return the blows, I even tried to hit them in different areas, just in case I can touch them anywhere – but still none. They passed through like air.

And only when they were satisfied—would they finally turn their backs and leave.

After every encounter, Raquel would force himself to stand. Even when his legs shook beneath him. Even when his face was bruised and his arms limp from shielding himself. He’d walk up to me, tug on my sleeve, and smile.

“I’m a big boy, so I didn’t cry,” he’d say.

That smile shattered my heart more than any of the hits could.

I couldn't help but frown. Was this his normal? Were these daily attacks routine? Ever since I was summoned, no one had visited Raquel until a few days ago. Why now? Why suddenly send a parade of cruelty through that door?

Was he not only abandoned by his family, but now left at the mercy of abusers?

My hands balled into fists, rage flooding through me. Raquel noticed and flinched.

“Si-sister? Di-did I do s-something wrong?” he asked, his voice trembling.

My anger melted instantly into guilt. I relaxed my fists and slowly reached out to pat his head. But before I could, he flinched again. His body recoiled—instinctively.

My hand froze in mid-air.

He was afraid.

He hadn’t been afraid when I touched him before.

But when he saw my hesitation, he grabbed my hand with both of his tiny ones and pressed it to his head. His voice cracked as he tried to smile again.

“I’m sorry… I’m not scared of you. I like big sister,” he repeated softly.

I knelt to meet his eyes, letting my hand rest where he held it—tangled gently in his hair.

“Raquel,” I said softly, “big boys can cry too, you know.”

He froze. The words hung in the air like something forbidden, something he never dared to believe.

“Big boys can complain when they’re hurting.”

He let go of my hand and looked at me with wide, watery eyes. “So… it’s okay for me to say that it hurts?”

I pulled him into my arms and held him tight. “Yes,” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. “Of course, it is.”

And with that, the dam broke.

He clutched at my shirt and wailed, “Waaah… It hurts, sister… it really hurts…”

He cried with the pain of a child who had been strong for too long. His sobs tore through the silence, raw and unfiltered. I held him close, rubbing his back, letting my own tears fall quietly onto his shoulder.

I had never heard someone cry like this before. Not even at the orphanage. None of the children I grew up with had been this bruised, this hurt.

He cried until sleep finally took him. Carefully, I carried him to his bed and laid him down. I sat beside him, gently stroking his hair as he slept.

How can I protect him… when I can’t even stop the people hurting him?

I stood and walked to the chair across the room. I sat, lost in thought—until something struck me.

I can touch things.

I don’t need to touch them directly.

I can throw things.

A wicked smile spread across my face. If I couldn’t block their hands, maybe I could stop them another way. Next time they come, I’ll be ready.

I already knew which objects to use.

*****

The pale light of dawn crept through the forest canopy, casting long shadows on the cabin walls. I made sure Raquel had something in his stomach before those damn wretches returned. I had prepared a small stack of stones nearby—not to harm them, but to send a warning shot if any of those women dared to get close.

And like clockwork, the heavy wooden door groaned open again, slamming against the wall as they barged in. I hovered protectively above Raquel, watching them with narrowed eyes. This time, one figure stood out.

She wasn’t in a maid’s garb. Instead, she wore a flowing, ash-gray dress with a thick, embroidered shawl draped over her slender shoulders. Her long, bluish-silver hair fell loose, glinting like strands of river in the dim light. Elegance clung to her like frost—but so did something darker. Authority. Power. Malice.

And surrounding her were the same maids—those twisted women who’d come to torment Raquel. Every last one of them.

Those I’d been able to touch before were now on edge, eyes darting as if expecting me to materialize from the shadows. The rest? They stood with smug defiance, emboldened by the presence of their regal leader.

My gaze swept over them before settling on the woman in front. She didn’t speak at first—just clicked her tongue in disgust.

“Why are you still alive?” she spat at him, venom dripping from each syllable. Raquel recoiled, shoulders trembling under her words.

I bit down on my lower lip. So it’s true… they left him here to die.

I floated down, placing myself between Raquel and the woman. Though she couldn’t see me, Raquel could—and I hoped my presence gave him strength. I glared at them all, my spirit flaring with fury. Adults… ganging up on a child? Disgusting.

“You won’t get any food today,” she announced coldly.

My fists clenched. What the hell does she mean by "today"?

They never brought real food. Just stale, rock-hard bread and spoiled produce. Everything we’d eaten these past few days, we foraged ourselves.

Then came a scowl from the woman that cut like a blade.

“This is your punishment for killing my sister.”

Time stopped.

Raquel flinched, his breath hitching. My mind reeled. Kill? What?

“I… didn’t kill… Mom…” His voice cracked, barely above a whisper. His wide, tear-glazed eyes sought mine for reassurance.

Mom? Sister? This woman… she’s Raquel’s aunt?

Everything I thought I knew shifted. My heart ached as I looked at him—he wasn’t talking to her, he was talking to me. Trying to explain himself to me.

But she couldn’t see that. She saw only a trembling boy looking up at her.

“How dare you look at me and lie? You were covered in her blood!” she screamed, her fury boiling over. She raised her hand—and in a flash, I surged forward, catching her wrist before it struck.

I could touch her. She was the kind I could stop.

Even so, the force behind her slap echoed through me like a shockwave. She really was going to hit him that hard?

Raquel just froze on his spot. He didn’t know what to do, but more than anything, he looked apologetic to me.

Raquel stood frozen, paralyzed with guilt and fear. I turned to him, heart aching.

“This isn’t your fault,” I whispered, releasing her hand and guiding Raquel gently behind me.

This is the type of person Raquel is. There’s no way he could have killed his mom, at least intentionally that is.

I’ll ask Raquel for more details since I really need to know what’s going on… but right now, the priority is getting the women out of here.

I eyed the woman, whose gaze hadn’t lost its seething intensity.

“What did you do?” she hissed.

Raquel only trembled.

“Did you summon something?” she asked, voice sharpened like a blade.

Her eyes, cold and calculating now, gleamed with suspicion.

She snapped her fingers. The ground behind her shifted. Earth pulled itself from thin air, molding into a floating orb of jagged stone.

What the hell is that?

I shot upward, watching it closely. That thing—it wasn’t just magic. It was alive. And it was watching me.

“You have a spirit, don’t you?” she sneered. “Summon it.”

Raquel remained silent, petrified. His eyes darted to me.

“This is the spirit you used to kill my sister, isn't it!?” she shrieked, spiraling deeper into her delusions.

This woman is unhinged.

“If you won’t summon it, I’ll force you to. I’ll kill that murdering spirit of yours.”

She barked a command to the rock creature. “You see something, Rocky?”

It rotated in the air and fixed its gaze directly on me.

“I can’t see anything… you deal with it,” she said with a wave of her hand.

The floating orb sharpened, forming spines like daggers mid-air—and pointed them at me.

I braced myself. How do I even fight that thing?

Before I could react, she gave another order.

“Hold him down.”

My heart stopped.

I turned toward Raquel—too late.

Two maids seized him, one on each side, wrenching his arms back. Before I could fly to him, a barrage of stone shards launched at me, which forced me to fly away from Raquel instead. Making sure that he doesn’t get caught in with the barrage of flying rocks.

I weaved through them, dodging each missile. I may be a spirit, but for some reason I can still pain, so I’d like to avoid that.

I kept my distance, drawing the assault away from Raquel. But when I glanced back—my heart shattered.

Raquel, bound and trembling, was slapped across the face—once, then again. His tiny voice cracked between sobs.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

It stopped me cold.

All I could do was float there, fury rising like a storm inside me.