“Ah! A ghost!”

William screamed, pressing his face into his hands and curling up in fear.

Michael was startled by his son’s reaction. Steadying himself, he looked out the car window—and froze. There it was: a bloody hand.

But the sleeve exposed above the wrist looked oddly familiar.

“Brother… it’s me.”

The voice trembled with quiet sobs. Michael immediately recognized it.

“Sylvia? Is that really you?”

The father’s heart clenched at the sound of his precious daughter’s voice. He fumbled for his phone, turned on the flashlight, and shone it outside. Finally, he could make out a full figure, not just a bloody hand.

It was Sylvia.

But she was...