Chapter 3

The SUV came to a complete stop, the sudden silence after the roaring engine feeling strangely loud. Atlas stretched, then opened his door, a gust of cold mountain air sweeping into the vehicle.

"Finally," he grumbled, rubbing his temples. "That drive was endless. Is she still back there?" He didn't even look at the cargo hold, his tone more annoyed than curious.

I am not just "she," my ghostly self thought, hovering near his shoulder. I'm Elsie. Your wife. The one who died in your trunk. The one you killed. But the words were soundless, meaningless to the living.

Kacie emerged from the passenger side, shivering dramatically, though her smile was wide and vibrant. "Aspen!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms wide, oblivious to the tragedy that had just unfolded mere feet behind her. "It's even more magical than I remember, Atlas darling. The winter lights, the fresh snow... it's perfect for us."

Thorne, the grim-faced fixer, approached the SUV. "Boss, the staff will unload the luggage. Should I have them... retrieve her?" he asked, his eyes flicking towards the back of the vehicle, a slight hesitation in his voice.

Atlas waved a dismissive hand. "Just tell them to take her straight to her room. And make sure she stays there. I don't want her wandering around and causing a scene. She's supposed to be resting, remember?" He didn't even specify which room, just "her room," as if any corner would do.

Thorne nodded, a strange expression crossing his face. He glanced at Kacie, who just shrugged, her attention already focused on the luxurious lodge. "Understood, boss."

But Thorne didn't tell the staff to retrieve me. He just told them to unload the luggage. The ski equipment, the bags, the boxes. And me. My body remained, a silent, frozen secret, nestled amongst the forgotten things.

Atlas and Kacie strode into the opulent lobby, their laughter echoing through the grand space. They were a picture of wealth and happiness, completely unaware of the chilling contrast their joy formed with the lifeless form still in the car.

"I'm exhausted," Kacie complained, leaning heavily on Atlas. "And a little sad, still, about... you know." She pouted, her eyes welling up with convenient tears.

Atlas immediately wrapped an arm around her. "I know, love. It's alright. We'll forget all about it." He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I have something for you." He pulled a small, velvet box from his pocket. Inside, a glittering diamond pendant sparkled under the chandelier lights. "For a fresh start. For our baby."

Kacie gasped, her tears instantly forgotten. "Atlas! It's beautiful! You're the best." She threw her arms around him, showering his face with kisses.

I watched, a faint memory stirring within my spectral form. Momma used to give me things, I thought. Small things. A painted rock. A shiny button. She said they were tokens of her love. Momma's love was warm and soft, like her old woolen blanket. Atlas's gestures were cold and hard, like the diamonds he gave Kacie.

The memory of the cellar, Atlas's cruel words, the darkness, the cold, resurfaced. I hated the dark. It brought back the worst things. Not just the loneliness, but him. The man Thorne sometimes brought with him to the house. The one with cold hands and eyes that didn't smile. He would come when Atlas was away, when Kacie was gone. He would come to the cellar.

He would touch me. In ways that frightened me. In ways that hurt. And I would cry, silently, because Atlas had told me to be quiet. "Good girls don't make noise, Elsie," he'd said. "Especially when you're in trouble."

I didn't understand what was happening. I just knew it was bad. And the darkness of the cellar, it was just like the darkness of the cargo hold. Except there was no one to hear me in the cargo hold. No one to hurt me anymore. Not the strange man. Not Atlas. Not Kacie.

My ghostly form trembled. Why hadn't he loved me? Was it because I broke things? Because my words sometimes came out tangled and wrong? I loved him. Momma said I had to be good, and he would love me. I tried so hard. So, so hard. But it was never enough.

Inside the cozy warmth of the lodge, Atlas and Kacie were settling into their suite. "Shouldn't Elsie be here by now?" Kacie asked, a sly smirk playing on her lips. "Maybe she got lost on the way to her room. She always was a little... confused."

Atlas snorted, taking a gulp of champagne. "Let her get lost. Better yet, let her be wherever Thorne put her. She's not my problem anymore. She's a caretaker's problem now. Or a facility's problem." He sounded relieved, almost giddy with the thought of his newfound freedom.

A hotel staff member, a young man with nervous eyes, knocked on their door. "Mr. Forbes, we've finished unpacking the SUV. But... we can't seem to find all the luggage. And... your wife?"

Atlas frowned, irritation clouding his features. "What do you mean, 'can't find'? She's supposed to be in her room. And all the luggage should be here. Check again!" He snapped, his voice sharp.

"Sir, we checked the room you specified for her, it's empty. And we searched the vehicle thoroughly. Some of the smaller bags are missing. And... there was no one in the cargo hold when we unloaded the skis." The young man stammered, his face pale.

Kacie laughed, a brittle, mocking sound. "Oh, for heaven's sake. She's probably just playing one of her silly games. Hiding somewhere. Trying to get attention." She rolled her eyes. "She always did that. Remember when she pretended to be sick just so you'd carry her?"

I wasn't pretending, I wanted to scream. My head hurt. My belly hurt. You made it hurt! But the words were stillborn, echoing only in the silent void where my life had been.

Atlas's jaw tightened. "She's a damn nuisance," he muttered, grabbing his phone. "Always. I told her to go straight to the room. Now she's probably wandering the halls, making a spectacle." He dialed a number, his fingers punching the buttons with angry force. "Elsie, if you're pulling one of your stunts, you're going to regret it! Pick up the phone!"

He held the phone to his ear, listening. Only the distant ring tone, muffled and lonely, answered him. "Damn it, Elsie, answer me!" he roared, his frustration boiling over. He looked around the luxurious suite, as if expecting to see my childish face peeking out from behind a curtain. "Where the hell are you?"

Just then, his phone vibrated with an incoming call. Not from me. It was Thorne. Atlas glared at the screen, then answered, his voice curt. "Thorne, where is she? The staff can't find her. Is she already at the facility?"

A pause. Then, Thorne's voice, low and urgent, came through the phone, loud enough for me, the spectral observer, to hear. "Boss... there's a problem. A big problem. The valet... he just found something in the cargo hold. Something... unexpected."

Atlas's face paled. He stared at the phone, his eyes wide with a sudden, dawning horror.