After arguing with my wife Charlotte, I just got out of the car to pick up a package. When I came back, my son Drake was gone. From that day on, I searched for Drake like a madman, living in guilt every single day. Charlotte pointed at my head and cursed: “Why don’t you just die? If we can’t find our child, we’re getting divorced!” From that day on, for four whole years, I gave up my career and life, searching for my child across the country 99 times, but every attempt ended in failure. Self-inflicted scars covered my entire body. I developed severe depression. Until the 100th time, I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills. As I lay dying, I heard Charlotte talking with her childhood sweetheart Brown: “Charlotte, you’ve messed with him enough. When are you planning to tell William that the child was never lost? I can’t wait to see his expression.” Charlotte laughed and said unhurriedly: “No rush. This is what he gets for forcing me to abort our baby.” So four years of inhuman torture was just her way of punishing me. As she wished, this time I really died.
To be closer to Drake, I died in his nursery. Charlotte opened the bedroom door and found me absent, assuming I hadn’t come home yet. She turned and pulled Brown onto our bed together. Her tone was indifferent: “He probably believed some scammer again and ran off to the middle of nowhere.” Brown laughed loudly. “It’s not the first time. I’ve never seen anyone so stupid—he believes whatever scammers tell him.” “I remember once he ran into the mountains and almost didn’t make it back. When the police arrived, he was disheveled, holding a knife and going crazy. Three men were lying on the ground. I have no idea what happened.” As soon as he finished speaking, the temperature around Charlotte suddenly dropped. She pushed him away coldly. Brown realized he’d said the wrong thing and immediately circled her neck ingratiatingly, pressing his lips to her neck. “I won’t talk about it anymore, Charlotte. It’s been so long since we’ve been intimate.” Charlotte wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed his lips, and a wicked smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. “Don’t think I’m jealous. I just find him stupid.” “Back then, if he hadn’t been so controlling, I would never have divorced him.” “But he has a life on his hands. He deserves this suffering. He can’t blame anyone else.” With that, their clothes scattered across the floor. On this bed where we had made love countless times, the two of them became entangled passionately. I thought after death, people wouldn’t feel pain anymore, but my heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles. Back then, she was the one who knelt before me, holding me and refusing to let go. “William, don’t leave me. I was drunk that day and mistook him for you. I’ll take care of the baby. Please believe me.” But I didn’t forgive her. I insisted on divorce. Charlotte went crazy, dragging Brown to apologize to me, then went to get an abortion herself. My heart softened. After struggling for months, I finally forgave her. The price was being fooled like an idiot for four years. The ambiguous moaning continued until midnight. The breathless Charlotte finally seemed to remember me, frowning toward the door. “Where the hell did William go? He didn’t even send a message about not coming home.” She called me. After a few seconds of silence, my phone suddenly rang in the house. Charlotte’s whole body stiffened as she looked sharply toward Drake’s nursery.
A flash of glee crossed Brown’s lips as he pretended to be nervous: “When did William come back? Did he hear us already?” Charlotte quickly put on her clothes and walked toward the nursery. I followed behind them, coldly watching Charlotte hesitate to push open the door. Finally, with a creak. After pushing open the door, she walked to the bedside. I was covered with a blanket, my whole body curled up inside. Charlotte’s face alternated between pale and flushed. She thought I was deliberately ignoring her. “William, since you know, I have nothing left to hide.” “Yes, I took Drake away, but you were wrong first.” She glanced at me, her tone pausing: “As long as you don’t cause trouble, we can keep living like this.” After she finished, the air was silent for dozens of seconds. Charlotte’s face looked ugly. She sneered. “You’re playing dead with me? Fine, let’s see how long you can keep this up!” I coldly watched her curse at me in exasperation, my heart completely unmoved. I was even curious what expression she’d have when she saw my corpse. Charlotte soon slammed the door and left, but before long she returned, holding a four-year-old child by the hand. My eyes immediately widened. I recognized this was my child Drake. His eyes looked exactly like mine. Tears immediately burst from my eyes. I rushed over wanting to hold him, but futilely passed through his body. Charlotte’s voice was somewhat triumphant as she threw the child onto the bed. “I’ve been keeping him at my mom’s place all this time. Now I’ve brought him back. Are you satisfied?” With that, she and Brown left the house again. Bastard, this bastard! Leaving such a small child here alone! In the pitch-black room, Drake cried in fear. My heart felt like it was being cut by knives. I tried to comfort him despite my grief. “Drake, don’t cry, Drake, I’m here…” But I was too foolish. How could a person hear a ghost’s voice? Drake curled up beside me and cried himself to sleep. I looked at Drake with overwhelming love, tears falling in sorrow. He must be so scared and hungry. Even his sleeping face showed pain. Like this, I stayed by his side all night until the next day when he groggily sat up. His childish voice was filled with panic. “Grandma, where are you? I’m hungry…” He rubbed his swollen eyes and carefully glanced at my corpse beside him. After hesitating for a long time, he said softly: “Can you get up and find me something to eat?” “I’ll be good. Just a little bit will be enough.” After a long silence, he dejectedly got out of bed. Then he picked up a bottle from the floor. I instantly broke down—it was my sleeping pills. There seemed to be a few pills remaining inside. My heart immediately jumped to my throat. But Drake was overjoyed. “Candy!” He poured some into his hand and looked back at me. Ingratiatingly, he said: “I’ll only eat three pieces. I’m so hungry.” With that, he impatiently put them in his mouth. “No!” I screamed shrilly, rushing over to stop him, but it was completely useless. The next second, with a bang, Charlotte pushed open the door. The moment she saw what Drake was doing, her eyes nearly split with rage. She rushed over and tried to force it out of Drake’s mouth. “Spit it out, spit it out quickly!” Drake was so frightened he burst into tears. “Don’t hit me, I won’t do it again, Mommy, I’ll never do it again.” Only after she’d gotten everything out did Charlotte’s deathly pale face slightly ease. She looked at me, her eyes full of disgust. But before she could speak, Brown first accused me: “William, you’re being so irresponsible. The child is so small—you could have killed him.” “I know you resent Charlotte for deliberately taking the child away, but you can’t take it all out on Drake!” He brazenly humiliated me while Charlotte coldly looked on. But if they looked closer, they’d see my skin was dry and waxy yellow, my body already faintly giving off a foul smell. But I was disappointed in the end. After standing for a full three minutes, Charlotte still picked up Drake and left. She took Drake to lunch, but remained distracted the whole time. Charlotte opened her phone. It had been almost two days since I’d last spoken to her. For some reason, she was unusually anxious. Because I never gave her the silent treatment. Because I’d once told her: “When something happens, don’t run away. I like to solve things directly.” Even when I caught her cheating, even though I was devastated, I still didn’t retreat. Charlotte’s mind suddenly buzzed as she realized something might have really happened to me. She stood up abruptly, muttering to herself: “Something’s wrong. He’s not right.” With that, she turned to rush back home.
But Brown suddenly said: “I saw William get up to eat yesterday.” Charlotte paused and slowly turned around. She repeated: “He got up yesterday?” Brown nodded, his expression somewhat awkward. “Yeah, I talked to him but he ignored me and even told me to get out…” Charlotte’s face immediately became extremely ugly. She sneered twice and sat back down. “I knew it. He’s faking it. Looks like he was just pretending to love Drake all along. He almost killed Drake!” I floated above, smiling bitterly. I wasn’t faking illness—I was really dead. Watching the triumphant smile on Brown’s lips, I really wanted to know if he could still smile when the truth came out. I floated back home and stayed with my corpse for a few more hours. My phone suddenly made a sound. It was my mother. Not having received a message from me for two days, she must have sensed something was wrong. She called three times in a row before the ringing finally stopped. Sure enough, within half an hour, she rushed over. Breathing rapidly, face tense, she came in and went straight to the bedroom. “William, William?” Not finding anyone, she went to the guest room, finally entering the nursery. “Ah! William!” A shrill scream pierced the sky. The rest of the scene was too painful for me to watch. Mom cried inconsolably, holding me and rocking back and forth. “How could you bear to leave me alone! How am I supposed to live!” Several hours later, Mom took me away. When the door opened again, it was Charlotte reeking of alcohol. She pushed away Brown who was supporting her and headed straight for the nursery. “William, how long are you going to keep playing dead!” As her words fell, she froze in place. The bed was empty. I was already dead. Her heart spasmed twice. She sneered: “Can’t keep it up anymore? Now you’ve learned to run away from home! Then get lost and never come back.” She returned to the living room and plopped down. Brown curled his lip in disgust: “Walking away is one thing, but making the house smell so bad—it really makes me want to vomit.” Charlotte seemed not to hear. Something occurred to her and she walked to the bedroom, yanking open the closet. All my clothes inside were untouched. She instantly felt relieved. “I thought you had some backbone, but you didn’t even take your clothes. You just want me to come begging, don’t you? Keep dreaming.” She relaxed and even let Brown move in. “Since he doesn’t care, let’s see how long he can hold out.” I looked on coldly, my soul floating in the room. Over the next few days, Charlotte lived it up, taking Brown to all kinds of public venues. But she didn’t become happier—instead, she grew increasingly gloomy. Finally, on the seventh day of my disappearance, she couldn’t hold out anymore. She brought Drake back. She opened my Twitter and ordered Drake to call for daddy. Drake was frightened and didn’t speak. Charlotte’s face darkened as she roared: “Call him! Are you deaf? I told you to call for daddy! Do you hear me!” Drake’s fear reached its peak. He burst into tears with a wail. I was filled with rage, wishing I could flay her alive. Drake was only a four-year-old child. To torture me, she would do anything! “Daddy, daddy, daddy…” Charlotte got what she wanted and sent the voice message. “William, do you still want your child or not? Are you just going to let him cry like this as his father?” Brown came over and hugged her, his voice gentle: “Don’t be angry, Charlotte. Since he’s so heartless, why do you still care about him? This kind of person doesn’t deserve to be a father.” Charlotte was silent for a long time. She looked at her phone, which still showed no response. She couldn’t hold back anymore and directly called me. Once, twice, three times—nothing changed. Still no answer. With a bang, Charlotte smashed her phone.
Brown was frightened, not understanding why she was so angry. He just said with a trembling voice: “Charlotte, the child’s here. Don’t be angry. At worst, divorce him. Why make yourself suffer?” The word “divorce” seemed to sting Charlotte. Her eyes turned bloodshot. She suddenly laughed. “Divorce? Wouldn’t that just let him off easy?” She took a deep breath, picked up the phone with its screen shattered to pieces, and called my mom. After a long ring, my mom answered in the last second. Before she could speak, Charlotte said urgently: “Mom, where did William go? I want to talk to him.” Mom’s voice was hoarse, each word seeming to burst from her throat one by one. “You bastard, you’ll never see him again in this life. Are you satisfied now?” Charlotte was stunned, not understanding what she meant, but before she could speak, the call was disconnected. Charlotte’s face flushed red. She cursed and opened my chat window, typing viciously: “William, you don’t want to live like this anymore, right? Fine, I’ll grant your wish. Get your ass back here and I’ll divorce you!” Still no reply. Hearing she wanted a divorce, Brown was so happy he couldn’t contain himself. He immediately ran to the bedroom to look for documents. But just as he ran out, he saw Charlotte pick up the still-sobbing Drake. She rushed out the door. “Charlotte, where are you going? Charlotte!” Charlotte didn’t look back as she floored the accelerator. I floated to the back seat to accompany Drake, my heart filled with hatred. “Bitch, driving so fast—where are you going? Aren’t you afraid of an accident? Aren’t you worried about Drake getting hurt!” But soon I knew her destination. Charlotte stood breathlessly at my family’s door, pounding on it viciously. “William, open the door! I know you’re in there! Don’t be a coward—if you have something to say, say it to my face!” With a creak, the door slowly opened from inside. Charlotte’s angry expression hadn’t faded when her whole body froze in horrified shock.
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