Chapter 2

The darkness inside the washing machine wasn't quiet anymore. I could hear my own heartbeat—thump-thump, thump-thump—getting slower and slower, like a clock winding down.

My chest hurt so bad. Every breath felt like swallowing glass. The air was so hot and thick, like trying to breathe underwater.

"Underwater."

That word made my brain wake up a little. Water. Pool. Lily.

And suddenly I wasn't in the washing machine anymore.

I was eight years old again, standing by our backyard pool on Lily's fourth birthday.

"Aria, go get the cake from the kitchen," Mom said, adjusting the party decorations. "And watch Lily while we finish setting up."

I looked at Lily. She was wearing her favorite pink swimsuit, the one with the ruffles. She was sitting on the pool edge, dangling her feet in the water.

"But Mom, she's really close to the pool—"

"Just go!" Mom's voice got that sharp edge. "Stop being so paranoid all the time!"

Dad didn't even look up from his phone.

I ran to the kitchen. It only took thirty seconds to grab the cake. Thirty seconds.

When I came back, Lily wasn't on the edge anymore.

She was in the water. Face down. Her pink swimsuit floating like a flower.

"LILY!"

I dropped the cake. It splattered everywhere. I jumped in without thinking.

The water was so cold. It filled my nose and mouth. I couldn't see anything. My arms grabbed at nothing, nothing, until finally—there. Lily's hand.

I pulled as hard as I could. But she was so heavy. Or I was too small. My head kept going under. I swallowed water. My lungs burned.

"ARIA!"

Hands grabbed me. Dad's hands. He yanked me out of the water.

But he didn't grab Lily.

He pulled me onto the concrete and left her in the pool.

"What did you do?" Mom's voice cut through everything. She was shaking me so hard my teeth rattled. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"I tried—" Water came out of my mouth. "I tried to save—"

SLAP.

Mom hit me so hard I saw stars.

"You were supposed to WATCH her!" Another slap. "She's FOUR YEARS OLD!"

"I went to get the cake! You told me—"

"Don't you DARE blame me!" Mom grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. "This is YOUR fault! YOU killed your sister!"

Dad finally jumped in. He pulled Lily out. Her lips were blue. She wasn't moving.

Someone called 911. The ambulance came. The paramedics did chest compressions for twenty minutes.

But Lily's eyes never opened again.

At the hospital, they made me sit in a plastic chair in the hallway. My clothes were still wet. I was shivering so hard I thought my bones would break.

The doctor came out. His face was sad. He said words like "couldn't revive her" and "I'm so sorry for your loss."

Mom screamed. The kind of scream that doesn't sound human.

Then she turned and saw me.

"It should've been you." Her voice went quiet. Scary quiet. "You're the one who should be dead."

She ran at me. Her hands grabbed my neck. Nurses pulled her off, but she kept screaming.

"Why are you alive? WHY ARE YOU ALIVE?"

Dad stood against the wall, staring at nothing. He didn't try to stop her. He didn't even look at me.

At Lily's funeral, they wouldn't let me go inside the church.

"You don't deserve to say goodbye," Mom said.

I stood outside in the rain for two hours. My dress got soaked. Lightning flashed in the sky. Thunder shook the ground.

Inside, everyone was crying for Lily. Outside, nobody cried for me.

When we got home, all my photos were gone. Every single one. Mom took them down and threw them away.

Now the walls only had Lily's pictures. Lily smiling. Lily laughing. Lily alive.

I became the ghost in my own house.

Something wet touched my face and I gasped.

I was back in the washing machine. The memory disappeared like smoke.

But now I couldn't feel my fingers. My lips felt fat and numb. Each breath was so shallow.

"Mom," I whispered. My voice sounded far away. "I didn't mean to drop her... I tried..."

Through the foggy glass door, I could see a slice of light from the basement window. The sun was high now. Hours had passed.

How many hours? Three? Four?

My brain felt fuzzy. Numbers didn't make sense anymore. Was I still counting? I forgot.

Above me, music played. Happy birthday music. Mom was singing.

She was having Lily's party.

She forgot about me.

Or maybe she remembered. Maybe she just didn't care.

My eyes felt so heavy. The darkness wasn't just around me now. It was inside me, spreading through my chest like spilled ink.

This is what Lily felt, I thought. In the water. Scared. Alone. Waiting for someone to save her.

I tried to save you, Lily. I really, really tried.

My hand slipped off the glass. I couldn't lift it anymore.

Everything got quieter. My heartbeat slowed down. Thump... thump... thump...

Then it stopped.

And I felt myself floating up, up, up—out of my body, out of the washing machine, through the basement ceiling.

I could breathe again!

But when I looked down, I saw myself still curled up in the machine. My skin looked blue. My eyes were half-open but not seeing anything.

I was dead.

I floated upstairs, through the walls like I was made of air.

In the living room, Mom was singing to an empty chair. There was a birthday cake on the table with twelve candles—the age Lily would've been.

Dad sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

"Sarah," he said without looking up, "Aria hasn't made any noise for a while."

Mom cut the cake into perfect slices. "Good. Maybe she finally learned to shut up."

"Should I check on her?"

Mom's knife froze. She turned and glared at him. "Today is LILY'S day. Don't you dare ruin it by talking about that girl!"

Dad went quiet. He kept looking at his phone.

I floated between them, screaming, "I'M DEAD! I'M RIGHT HERE! LOOK AT ME!"

But they couldn't hear me. They couldn't see me.

I was a ghost.

I floated back down to the basement. Through the dark. Through the cold.

I looked at my body in the washing machine one more time. My twisted neck. My blue fingers. My open, empty eyes.

That's when the truth hit me like a punch to the stomach.

They don't know I'm dead yet.

And even worse—

They don't even care.