Lucas leaned in, lowering his voice. “Real Mom. She doesn’t like it when you move her things,” he whispered, glancing over his shoulder like he expected someone to be watching us.

I sat frozen, trying to process what he was saying.
The way he looked at me was so serious, like he was sharing a secret he wasn’t supposed to.

I forced a smile, nodded, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay, Lucas. You don’t have to worry. Let’s finish up our puzzle, alright?”

But that night, as Ben and I lay in bed, my mind raced. I tried to tell myself it was just a kid’s overactive imagination.

But each time I closed my eyes, I’d hear Lucas’ words, see the way he’d glanced nervously toward the hallway.

When Ben was finally asleep, I got up quietly, heading to the attic. I knew Ben kept some of Irene’s old things in a box up there. Maybe if I could see them and find out more about her, it would help me understand why Lucas was acting this way.

I climbed the creaky stairs, my flashlight slicing through the dark, until I found the box tucked in a corner, dusty but well-kept.

The lid was heavier than I expected, as though it had absorbed years of memories. I pulled it off and found old photos, letters she’d written to Ben, and her wedding ring wrapped carefully in tissue. It was all so personal, and I felt a strange pang of guilt going through it.

But there was something else. A few items looked freshly moved, almost as if they’d been handled recently.

And that’s when I noticed it: a small door in the corner, half hidden behind a stack of boxes.

I froze, squinting at the door. I’d been in the attic a few times but had never noticed it. Slowly, I pushed the boxes aside and twisted the old, tarnished knob. It clicked, opening into a narrow room dimly lit by a small window.

And there, sitting on a twin bed covered in blankets, was a woman I recognized immediately from the photos. She looked up, her eyes wide.

I stepped back, startled, and stammered, “You… you’re Emily, Ben’s sister, aren’t you?”

Emily’s expression shifted from surprise to something else — a quiet, eerie calm. “I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to find out this way.”

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. “Why didn’t Ben tell me? Why are you up here?”

She looked down, smoothing the edge of her blanket. “Ben didn’t want you to know.

He thought you’d leave if you found out… if you saw me like this. I’ve… I’ve been here for three years now.”

“Three years?” I could barely process it. “You’ve been hiding up here all this time?”

Emily nodded slowly, her gaze distant. “I don’t… go outside much. I prefer it up here. But sometimes, I get restless. And Lucas… I talk to him sometimes. He’s such a sweet boy.”

A chill ran through me. “Emily, what are you telling him? He thinks his mother’s still here. He told me that she doesn’t like it when I move things.”

Emily’s face softened, but there was a trace of something unsettling in her eyes. “I tell him stories sometimes. About his mother. He misses her. I think it comforts him to know she’s still… present.”

“But he thinks you’re her. Lucas thinks you’re his real mom,” I said, my voice breaking.

She looked away. “Maybe it’s better that way. Maybe it helps him to feel she’s still here.”

To be continued.