Wyatt Greg, just ten years old, hovered above the twisted car wreck. His small face was pale, shimmering faintly in the soft rain, his eyes wide with confusion and longing. The world below bustled with paramedics and flashing lights, but no one looked up at him—no one except Jacob Shae, who stood on the sidewalk, clutching his bike helmet with trembling hands. Wyatt Greg tried to call out, desperate to let his family know he was okay, but his voice was a whisper in the wind.

Jacob Shae[/@ch_2]’s freckled face.] Jacob Shae sat cross-legged on his bed, running a hand through his short orange hair, eyes darting warily to the corner where Wyatt Greg’s ghostly form hovered. Wyatt Greg’s presence sent a chill through the room, though his gaze pleaded with hope. "Jacob, please. I need your help. My family—they need to know I’m okay. I can’t move on until they know." "Why me? Why can I see you? And what if you try to, like...possess me or something?" "I promise, I just need you to be my voice. I could never hurt you."

Jacob Shae shuffled down the hallway, clutching a note tightly in his hand, Wyatt Greg gliding beside him like a shadow. His nerves pulsed beneath his fair skin as he glanced around, hoping no one else could see who he was talking to. "Look, Wyatt, I’ll do it. I’ll talk to your family. But you have to swear, once I do this, you’ll leave me alone and not try to take over my body or anything weird." "Deal," Wyatt Greg replied, his face breaking into a grateful smile that flickered like candlelight.

Jacob Shae stood awkwardly before Mrs. Greg, Mr. Greg, and Wyatt’s younger brother, their faces drawn and eyes rimmed red. Wyatt Greg hovered by the window, watching with anxious hope. "I—I know this might sound strange, but I have a message from Wyatt. He wants you to know he’s okay. He’s...he’s going to heaven, and he wants you to be happy again. He says he loves you. All of you." "How do you—how could you know that?" Mrs. Greg whispered, clutching her locket, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Wyatt Greg stood beside Jacob Shae one last time, his form growing fainter as light poured around him. The sorrow that once weighed him down seemed lighter now, hope shining in his translucent eyes. "Thank you, Jacob. I can feel them letting go, just a little. I think I can go now." "Goodbye, Wyatt. And hey—don’t haunt anyone else, okay?" "Promise. See you someday."

Jacob Shae rode his bike home under the velvet sky, a new sense of calm settling in his heart. Inside the Greg home, Mrs. Greg and Mr. Greg sat close, holding hands, Wyatt’s brother nestled between them. The pain hadn’t disappeared, but something gentle had entered their hearts—a message of love, and the knowledge that Wyatt Greg was at peace.