Sharlene’s husband had arrived. She barely looked at him—or at Sheila—sitting beside him, laughing and chatting like nothing was wrong. She pretended not to notice.

With a quiet sigh, she turned to Ashley, who stood silently at her side. The little girl was trying to get her father’s attention, but he didn’t even glance her way. Sharlene’s chest tightened. Her daughter had a father—but he acted like she didn’t exist.

The house was busy again tonight. They were preparing for her grandmother’s burial tomorrow. Sharlene had taken leave from work to help, to be here—for everything.

A small tug on her sleeve pulled her back from her thoughts. She looked down to see Ashley’s sad eyes. The child didn’t say anything, but the heaviness in her gaze spoke volumes.

“Why?” Sharlene asked softly, brushing a stray hair from her daughter’s face.

Ashley shook her head. “Mom, I’m going to rest for a bit,” she whispered.

Sharlene lifted her into her arms. It was late, and her little one needed sleep. As they passed Martin and Sheila, who were still deep in conversation, Martin called out:

“Sharlene.”

She stopped, expression calm but guarded.

“I want to carry Ashley,” he said casually, as if nothing had happened.

“She waited for you earlier,” Sharlene said, voice steady. “But now she’s tired. She’s going to sleep.”

She swallowed the anger burning in her chest.

“My bad, my bad,” Martin chuckled. “Sheila and I just got caught up talking. I didn’t even notice Ash.”

Her fists clenched.

“Go on—don’t let us interrupt your conversation,” she said coldly.

“Sharlene, sorry if you feel that way,” Sheila said quickly, forcing a sweet smile. “We’ll take care of Ashley if you want—”

But Sharlene noticed Ashley shrinking away from them, clutching tighter to her. That was answer enough. Without another word, she turned and walked away.

“Sharlene! Sharlene!” Sheila called after her, but she didn’t stop. She went straight to the bedroom and laid Ashley gently on the bed.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “Mom won’t leave your side until you fall asleep.”

Ashley smiled faintly. “Just stay with me until I sleep, Mom.”

“I will,” Sharlene promised, lying beside her and letting the child cling to her arm. She stroked Ashley’s cheek until her breathing slowed, finally deep and even.

Quietly, Sharlene stood and adjusted the blanket before leaving the room.

Outside, someone was waiting. She sighed and walked past him—but Martin followed.

“Apologize to Sheila,” he said coldly.

She froze. “What sin have I committed that I need to apologize for?”

“You disrespected her,” he snapped. “That woman came here out of sympathy, and this is how you repay her?”

Sharlene’s brow furrowed.

“Disrespect?” she echoed bitterly. “Big word coming from you, Martin.”

He stepped closer, eyes burning. “If you can’t respect my guest, I’m warning you—something bad will happen.”

She didn’t even flinch. “Then tell me, exactly how did I disrespect her?”

But he only shook his head and walked off.

“You really are a disgusting woman,” he muttered before slamming the door behind him.

Sharlene sank onto the couch, trembling. Her thoughts churned in exhaustion. Was she wrong to keep holding onto something so obviously broken? What scared her most wasn’t losing him—it was what this was doing to Ashley.

You’re hopeless, Sharlene, she told herself bitterly.

She pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to steady her breath.

“Sis.”

She looked up. Tashia was standing there, eyes full of concern.

“Tashia…” Sharlene sighed.

“Are you okay?”

“Sorry. Just tired,” she admitted weakly.

“Where’s Ashley?”

“She’s asleep,” Sharlene replied, smiling faintly.

“Can I check on her?”

“Of course,” Sharlene said, surprised by her sister’s gentle tone.

“Are Martin and Sheila still outside?”

“They left already,” Tashia said. “They have work tomorrow.”

“Good,” Sharlene muttered under her breath.

Tashia raised a brow. “Why? Did something happen?”

“Ah—no,” she stammered. “It’s late. They should rest, that’s all.”

Tashia didn’t press further. “I’ll check on Ashley. You rest, okay? I’ll take care of things here.”

“Thank you, Tashia,” Sharlene murmured gratefully.

Her forehead throbbed. As she rubbed it, she suddenly felt someone sit beside her. The hairs on her arms rose.

She turned. No one was there.

But the air had changed. It had grown colder—thicker. A chill brushed her arm. The feeling of being watched crawled across her skin.

Calm down, Sharlene.

She took a deep breath, but then—she saw her.

A woman in mourning clothes.

Sharlene’s breath caught. Her body froze.

The woman had no face. Yet somehow, she was looking at her.

Then… she smiled.

“Shhh…”

The whisper slid through the air like smoke, and Sharlene’s throat went dry.