Not asleep.
Not awake.
Just… standing.
Elena’s heart slammed.
She rushed into the room—
But Sofia was lying down again.
Perfectly tucked in.
Eyes closed.
Breathing softly.
As if nothing had moved.
Elena grabbed the monitor, hands shaking.
“This isn’t real…” she whispered. “This isn’t real…”
Then Sofia spoke without opening her eyes.
“You saw it again.”
Elena froze.
Sofia slowly sat up.
This time, her voice was different.
Not childish.
Not playful.
Careful.
Measured.
Like something learning how to pretend.
“It followed me home,” Sofia said.
Elena’s throat tightened.
“What… followed you?”
Sofia tilted her head slightly.
“The place where I was.”
A pause.
Then softer:
“It didn’t want me to leave.”
The room temperature dropped.
Elena felt it in her bones.
“What are you talking about?” she whispered. “Sofia, you’re scaring me…”
Sofia looked at her mother for a long moment.
Then smiled.
But this time… there was sadness in it.
Not innocence.
Not evil.
Something worse.
Understanding.
“It doesn’t like being alone,” Sofia said.
“And now… it’s not.”
Elena stumbled backward.
“No. No, I didn’t bring anything back. We were just at the hospital. We—”
She stopped.
The hospital.
The word hit differently now.
Because she remembered.
The moment it happened.
Sofia had flatlined for 47 seconds.
No heartbeat.
No breath.
No activity.
Just silence.
And then—
She came back.
But Elena hadn’t questioned it then.
Grief doesn’t ask questions when it’s offered a miracle.
Now she whispered, barely audible:
“What came back with you…?”
Sofia’s gaze drifted past her mother.
To the corner of the room.
Where the light didn’t fully reach.
And there—
It stood.
Not fully formed.
Not fully visible.
But no longer hidden.
A shape that mimicked Elena’s outline.
