My Son Died, but My 5-Year-Old Daughter Said She Saw Him in the Neighbor’s Window – When I Knocked at Their Door, I Couldn’t Believe My Eyes

“He’s there,” she said. “He was looking at me.”

My heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t process what Ella was saying.

“Maybe you imagined him, honey,” I said softly, drying my hands on a towel.

“Sometimes, when we miss someone a lot, our hearts play tricks on us. It’s okay to wish he were still here.”

But she shook her head, her pigtails swaying. “No, Mommy.

He waved.”

The way she said it so calmly and confidently made my stomach drop.

That night, after I tucked her into bed, I noticed the picture she’d drawn on the table. Two houses, two windows, and a boy smiling from across the street.

My hands trembled as I picked it up.

Was it just her imagination? Or was grief reaching for me again, playing cruel games in the shadows?

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