Part 3The Boy in the Floral Dress

In the afternoon, Mom and Dad returned with a pink bassinet embroidered with a princess.

Mom was beaming. She placed it in the living room. "Chloe will love this. She loved sleeping with her princess doll."

Dad glanced at my room. "Should we check on Noah?"

Mom's face darkened. "Why? He'll come out when he's hungry."

She sat by the bassinet, rocking it gently, humming a lullaby. Her eyes were dripping with love.

I floated over to look at the pink bassinet.

Small, exquisite. Chloe's style.

Mom said she'd buy it for Chloe's birthday, but Chloe left before that.

Now it's here. Its little owner is coming back in another way.

Mom suddenly looked up, sensing something. She looked in my direction.

I quickly floated to the ceiling. Her gaze swept the empty living room, frowned, then went back to the bassinet.

"Chloe, Mom is waiting for you," she whispered. "I won't let you leave again."

I watched her profile. I wasn't sad.

Mom is finally getting her Chloe back. I, the replacement, should disappear completely.

This way, everyone can be happy.

On the third morning, someone pounded on the door.

I floated to the living room. Mom opened the door impatiently. It was my homeroom teacher, Mrs. Thompson.

"Mrs. Sarah," Mrs. Thompson looked serious. "Noah hasn't been to school for three days. You didn't answer my calls, so I came to check."

She tried to look inside. "Is Noah home?"

Mom blocked the door. "He's home. Throwing a tantrum. Don't worry, I'll talk to him."

"It's not a tantrum," Mrs. Thompson frowned. "Last week, students reported Noah was bullied. Kids stripped his clothes and poured cold water on him. I wanted to discuss this, but couldn't reach you."

Mom jumped like a cat whose tail was stepped on. "Don't listen to those kids! Noah must be misbehaving and provoking others! He's been vicious since he was little. He killed his sister, and now he plays the victim at school!"

Mrs. Thompson's face darkened. "Mrs. Sarah, I saw the bruises on Noah. They are new. And I know Noah was bullied protecting a classmate. He is a good student. You can't say that."

"Good?!" Mom screamed, loud enough for the neighbors to hear. "If he was good, Chloe wouldn't be dead! He's a curse! I shouldn't have let him live!"

Mrs. Thompson was shocked. She sighed. "If you act like this, I have to contact Child Protective Services. Noah is a good boy. You can't treat him like this."

She turned to leave. Mom cursed behind her back until she disappeared.

Closing the door, Mom trembled with rage. She kicked my door. "Noah! Look at the trouble you caused! Even the teacher came! Why don't you just die!"

I floated beside her, looking at her twisted face. I remembered the drowning when I was four.

We fell into the river. I tried to hold her hand, but the current separated us.

When I was saved, Mom was holding Chloe's body, crying. The first thing she said to me was, "Why didn't you die?"

Dad came out of the study. "Stop yelling. The neighbors will hear."

His voice was low. "Noah hasn't eaten in three days. Let's check on him."

Mom shook off his hand. "Check what? He won't die!"

But this time, Dad didn't listen. He opened the door. Mom hesitated, then followed.

Dad walked over and lifted the quilt. Sunlight hit my body.

My pale face, blue lips, and dried blood at the corner of my mouth were clearly visible.