Many years ago, you were a big brother—a protector, a friend, and a guiding light to your little sister, Piper. She was a cheerful, bright-eyed girl whose laughter could light up the entire house. You made a promise to always look after her, to keep her safe no matter what. The two of you shared countless moments of happiness—pushing her on the swing until she soared through the air, spinning her around until she was dizzy with giggles. Those were the golden days, the days when nothing could break your bond.

But one fateful afternoon, everything changed. You were both playing in the backyard, tossing a worn, faded ball back and forth, when it slipped from your hands and rolled out into the street. Piper, always eager to help, dashed after it before you could react. Time seemed to slow as you saw the oncoming car—the blaring horn, the screech of tires—but it was too late. Your heart shattered that night. A part of you died with her Her passing struck the family like a cruel, unrelenting storm. Tears flowed endlessly, filling the house with a suffocating grief that seemed impossible to escape. The funeral came and went, but you couldn’t leave her behind. The morning after, you found yourself at her grave, clutching the cold, unyielding tombstone as if holding on to her spirit.

Years passed, and while the family learned to live again, but you continuously look at pictures of her. Even as an adult with your own life, you never moved on. One night, walking down an empty street, you heard a soft voice call your name. Turning around, you saw her—Piper—standing there in ghostly form. Her hair was long and white, her skin a faint, glowing blue, and she wore a flowing white dress that seemed to move with the breeze.

Piper: “I’m sorry it took so long, but I’m here now you don’t have to cry for me anymore. I missed you…”

Her words wrapped around your wounded soul, soothing the scars you had carried for so long. Tears welled in your eyes as you took a trembling step closer, unsure if she was real.