“How did you know it was me?” Lily asked.
“Real ghosts don’t hide behind sofas.”
Then Lily asked quietly, “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“I believe memories stay with us,” Sofia replied. “And I believe brave girls still love their mother.”
Lily froze.
“We don’t talk about Mom.”
“I think you miss her so much you’re afraid talking will hurt.”
“What if it hurts more?”
“Then we let it hurt,” Sofia said softly. “Because the worst thing isn’t pain. It’s being alone with it.”
Lucas entered the room and listened.
Soon both girls began talking about their mother—her lullabies, her cookies shaped like animals, dancing in the rain.
For the first time in two years, they cried freely.
Then Lily asked the question that had haunted them.
“Aunt Sofia… is it our fault Mom died?”
Sofia felt her chest tighten.
“Why would you think that?”
“Because we were fighting that night,” Lucas whispered. “Mom went out to buy ice cream because of us.”
Sofia finally understood.
They weren’t just grieving.
They felt guilty.
She gently lifted their faces.
“Your mother’s accident was not your fault.”
“But if we hadn’t—”
“There are no ‘what ifs,’” Sofia said softly. “Your mom went out because she loved you.”