The blood drained from my face. “He said not to tell anyone?” My voice faltered.
Noah nodded enthusiastically. “He said it’s a secret.”
My mind raced as I fought to steady myself. “Noah,” I said, kneeling down to his level, “you must promise me, if anyone tells you to keep something from me, you tell me anyway. Okay?”
He looked at me, his brow furrowed in confusion. “But Ethan told me not to.”
“Promise me, Noah. You can’t keep secrets from me. Not from anyone, not from anything.” My voice cracked as I forced the words out, but it didn’t matter. I needed to hear him say it.
He hesitated, but then nodded slowly. “Okay, Mom.”
I kissed his forehead, watching him run into the schoolyard. I stood there for a moment, the unease gnawing at me, before I turned to head back to the car. Something was wrong, I thought. Something was very wrong.
As I sat in the car, I dialed Mark’s number, my fingers trembling as the phone rang. “Mark,” I said when he picked up. “Something’s going on with Noah.”
“What do you mean?” His voice was groggy, like he’d just woken up.
“He keeps saying Ethan is back. That he’s talking to him, and now he says it’s a secret.”
There was silence on the other end for a moment. “What kind of secret?” Mark asked.
“He won’t tell me who it is. He says Ethan told him not to tell me.” I rubbed my forehead, trying to steady my thoughts. “I don’t know what to do, Mark. I just feel… wrong about it.”
“I’ll meet you at home after work,” he said, his voice softening. “We’ll figure this out together.”
I hung up and stared at the empty schoolyard for a moment longer, feeling like something was creeping under my skin. My phone buzzed with a new message, but I didn’t look at it. I was too consumed by the thoughts racing through my head. What if Ethan was trying to tell us something from the other side? What if this wasn’t just a figment of Noah’s imagination? It felt too real. Too vivid. Too… deliberate.
That afternoon, I went to pick Noah up from kindergarten, my mind still swirling. As I pulled into the parking lot, I saw a familiar face standing by the gate, chatting with another parent. It was Ms. Alvarez, the kindergarten teacher.
I approached her, trying to keep my composure. “Ms. Alvarez, can I talk to you for a moment?”
She turned to me with a warm smile, but there was a slight tension in her eyes. “Of course, Mrs. Elana. What’s on your mind?”
I looked around before I spoke. “Noah keeps saying something… strange. He says Ethan has been visiting him. He says it’s a secret.”
Ms. Alvarez raised an eyebrow, her smile faltering for just a second. “He’s been saying that?” she asked, her tone cautious.
“Yes. And this morning, he told me Ethan told him not to tell anyone.” I paused, searching her face for any sign of recognition, any hint that she might know something I didn’t. “Do you know anything about this? Has he been… talking to anyone?”
Ms. Alvarez’s face stiffened for a brief moment before she spoke again. “I’m sure Noah is just working through his grief, Mrs. Elana. Kids at that age sometimes have vivid dreams or imaginations.”
I didn’t buy it. Something about her response seemed too rehearsed, too guarded. “But what if it’s not just imagination? What if someone is talking to him? I need to know what’s going on.” I could hear the edge in my voice, but I couldn’t help it. Something was terribly wrong, and I needed answers.
Ms. Alvarez glanced around quickly before she spoke again. “If you’re really concerned, we can look at the security footage. But I’m sure it’s just… a child’s coping mechanism.”
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