It was 2:07 A.M. Neil had just been fed by his mom. He was only three weeks old, but he seemed to be sleeping through the night longer and longer, but tonight he was irritable. Dawn sat in the rocking chair singing him lullabies while bouncing him gently on her shoulders. She was getting exhausted. She yawned with one eye open and one eye closed, she went to lift her hand up to her mouth to cover it as she yawned.

  She quickly realized what she had done wrong. She was supposed to be supporting her sons head. For Gods sake he is not able to hold his head on his own. She felt like an awful mother, but as she rushed her hand back to his tiny head, she realized he was holding his head up, staring blankly into the center of the room where his crib lay.

  She thought she was dreaming, but it was true. Neil was holding his head up all on his own. She could not believe her eyes. He had also settled and began to make baby noises as if someone was soothing him. She looked around to see if her Dakota was nearby, but he was not. She carefully held her palm behind his head.

  Since he was calm and soothed, she decided to lie him down in his crib. He kept watching the corner of his bed. His tiny lips curled into a smile. He began giggling. Dawn patted him to sleep then decided to curl up in the mini sofa her dear husband had so kindly bought and put together in the room. He knew she would end up spending most nights in the nursery. He wanted his beautiful wife to be comfortable.

  The next morning came. It was 6:03 A.M. Dakota rolled over in the bed to wrap his arms around his wife. He loved being able to wrap his arms around her and feel their bodies intertwined with each other. It is one of the tiny things in their life that keeps the passion rolling on.

  When he did not feel the warmth of his wife next to him, he yawned scratching his body, moving ever so slowly sitting up to get out of bed. He straggled down the hall after slipping on some pajama shorts. He walked into the nursery where he saw his wife asleep with Neil on her chest both hands holding onto him.

  Neil was lifting his head and giggling at something in the corner. Little man was wide awake. Wait a minute, Dakota thought. He is three weeks old! There is no way he is holding his head up all by himself. Dakota walked over to his wife and son, picking him up, cradling him, then kissing his wife on the forehead.

  “Good morning beautiful. You fell asleep in the nursery again.”

  Dawn stirred from her sleep as the sound of Dakota's footsteps filled the nursery. She glanced at the wall clock, noting the early hour. The room was bathed in the gentle hues of dawn, casting soft shadows on the furniture and toys scattered across the floor. Neil's giggles were like tiny bursts of joy, echoing the beginning of a new day.

  "Morning," she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep but laden with the tenderness she always felt for her husband.

  Dakota smiled, rubbing his eyes as he settled beside her on the sofa, Neil still cradled in his strong arms. "Did he sleep well?" he asked softly, his gaze fixed on their son who was now trying to grasp at his father's fingers.

  Dawn nodded, her eyes following Neil's every movement. "He did. But he was so restless last night. It's strange, Dakota. He held his head up, all by himself. And he was... giggling at something. I can't explain it."

  Dakota's eyes widened slightly, showing a mix of curiosity and concern. "Maybe he's just developing faster," he suggested, though the oddity of it wasn't lost on him. He gently rocked Neil, who seemed content and happy in his father's embrace.

  A sudden chill swept through the room, causing Dawn to shiver slightly. She glanced towards the corner where Neil had been staring and giggling the night before. "Do you think...," she hesitated, "could it be something? Or someone?"

  Dakota's face turned serious. "I don't know, Dawn. Babies are said to be more perceptive, but let's not jump to conclusions. Maybe it's just his imagination."

  He stood up, carrying Neil over to his crib. Dawn followed, still uneasy but trusting Dakota's calm reassurances. As Neil was laid down, his eyes again wandered towards the corner, and a soft giggle escaped his lips. Dawn and Dakota exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them.

  "We should keep an eye on him," Dawn said quietly. "Just to be sure."

  Dakota nodded, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "Of course. And we'll get through this together, whatever it is."

  With Neil settled, Dakota and Dawn retreated to the kitchen. The smell of fresh coffee soon filled the air, a comforting routine amidst the uncertainty. Dakota poured them both a cup, handing one to Dawn with a reassuring smile.

  "Let's take it one day at a time," he said softly. "We'll figure it out."

  Dawn took a sip, feeling warmth spread through her. The love and support Dakota offered were her anchors. Glancing back at the nursery, she hoped their tiny blessing was simply growing faster, but a part of her couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Neil's behavior.

  The day progressed with usual routines and moments of shared laughter. Dakota headed off to work, leaving Dawn and Neil to their day. She watched Neil closely, noting every giggle, every gaze towards the nursery corner. As the sun set, casting long shadows through the room, she couldn't help but feel a presence – unseen yet palpable.

  Determined to understand, Dawn decided to keep a log of Neil's behaviors and patterns, hoping to find a rational explanation. She whispered a prayer for protection over her son, her maternal instincts guiding her every step.

  As night fell, she tucked Neil into his crib, humming a lullaby softly. He drifted off to sleep, his tiny fingers clutching the edge of his blanket. Dawn settled on the mini sofa again, her eyes heavy with exhaustion but her heart filled with unwavering love and determination.

  The nursery was quiet, all except for the soft breathing of her son. Yet, in the stillness, Dawn felt a comforting presence, as if someone was watching over them. She closed her eyes, clinging to the faith that whatever lay ahead, they would face it together, as a family.

  The room was steeped in a quiet warmth, the rhythmic hum of the baby mobile merging with the distant murmurs of the night. She watched her newborn, her little peanut, his chest rising and falling in the peace of sleep, his fingers curled into soft fists. Then, it came—a cry, thin and aching, splintering the silence.

  Her breath hitched. It wasn’t Neil. He lay undisturbed in his crib, the gentle glow of the nightlight casting his tiny features in serenity. But the sound—the very same, heart-clenching wail she had heard in the hollow aftermath of her last D&C—pressed against her ribcage with the weight of familiarity.

  And then, as if summoned by that phantom sorrow, Neil stirred. His fingers twitched, then his legs, shifting with sudden purpose. He rolled, a new determination flickering in his unfocused gaze, as if pulled by something unseen. A second later, impossibly, he sat upright—his wobbling frame steadied by some invisible force.

  The cries in the air twisted. The sorrow unraveled, morphing into something lighter, warmer—a laughter she had never heard before, but one that carried the weight of recognition, as though stitched into her very being. It was haunting. It was beautiful. And she knew—deep in the marrow of her bones—that it belonged to someone lost but never truly gone.

  The laughter curled through the air, weightless yet tethered to something—someone—just beyond what her eyes could grasp. Neil, still unsteady in his newfound upright position, wavered, his tiny frame swaying in a way that should’ve sent him tumbling back onto the mattress. But he didn’t fall.

  Her breath stilled.

  It wasn’t that he was simply balanced—it was that he was being held.

  His body rested against something unseen, his head tipping slightly to one side, as if cradled by careful hands. His arms lifted, fingers curling with absent curiosity, not reaching for the air, but responding to something already there.

  She sucked in a breath as the unseen grip adjusted, shifting him with impossible tenderness. His posture changed—not just sitting, but positioned—guided, much like how she had once held him in those first, fragile moments.

  And then, Neil’s laughter mingled with the phantom one—the two sounds folding into each other, indistinguishable yet separate, the perfect harmony of something known and unknown.

  Tears burned at the edges of her vision, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t.

  The baby mobile overhead spun in its slow, deliberate rhythm, its melody morphing into something deeply familiar. A lullaby—one she had hummed absentmindedly in moments of grief, when the world felt emptier than it should.

  Neil cooed, his gaze locking onto something just in front of him, his joy unrestrained, unafraid. He wasn’t alone. He knew it.

  And now—so did she.

  The rhythmic hum of the baby monitor filled the quiet hum of Dakota’s car as he pulled into the driveway, exhaustion pressing into his bones. Work had dragged late—long hours bleeding into frustration—but all he cared about now was stepping through that front door, kissing his wife, and watching Neil sleep soundly in his crib.

  His phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. Baby Cam Live—the app automatically sending him a motion alert. He frowned, pulling up the feed, expecting nothing more than Neil stirring in his sleep. But what he saw made his stomach twist.

  Neil wasn’t just stirring—he was sitting up.

  That alone would’ve been enough to startle him, but it was the way he was being held—a gentle, unseen grip cradling his fragile body in place, keeping him upright like careful hands wrapped around him. Dakota blinked hard, staring at the grainy feed, his pulse hammering against his ribs.

  “No,” he muttered, shaking his head as if to rid himself of the image.

  Neil giggled.

  Dakota watched as his son reached forward, fingers curling in excitement, as if touching something just beyond the camera’s perception. His lips parted, babbling, cooing—but not at Dawn. At something else.

  A sound filtered through the baby monitor—a soft, melodic laugh intertwined with Neil’s own. The hairs on Dakota’s arms stood on end. That wasn’t his wife. And it sure as hell wasn’t Neil.

  He shot out of his car.

  Inside the house, his keys rattled against the counter as he stepped in, his breaths uneven, his hands cold. The nursery door was ajar—just slightly—but the glow from within cast dancing shadows against the hallway wall.

  He pushed it open.

  Dawn sat in the rocking chair, her gaze locked onto Neil, who was still balanced, impossibly held up by something unseen. The baby mobile spun, its tune eerily familiar—something Dakota swore he had heard before but couldn’t place.

  Dawn turned to him, the soft light catching in her eyes.

  “He’s here,” she whispered.

  Dakota stiffened. “Who?”

  She shook her head, her expression unreadable—but calm. “I don’t know. But I feel… safe.”

  Safe. That word shouldn’t fit this moment, shouldn’t wrap itself so easily around the edges of what Dakota was seeing. But Dawn looked at Neil—not in fear, but in recognition, in something deeper than mere acceptance.

  He tore his gaze from her and back to Neil.

  The presence—whatever it was—shifted. He swore he could feel it too, curling through the air like a whisper, like something reaching for them but never demanding to be seen.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Neil yawned, his tiny body finally wavering before he leaned forward—slowly, deliberately—until he collapsed into Dawn’s waiting arms.

  The invisible force had let go.

  Dakota swallowed hard. “Dawn. That’s not normal.”

  She looked down at their son, cradling him close, brushing a thumb over his soft cheek.

  “Neither is love,” she murmured. “But it’s still real.”

  The two of them watched their son fall asleep peacefully. Dakota hoped that he was imagining things from exhaustion, so he tried to tell himself that his son was just a quick learner and that he was just advanced.

  He knew he was wrong, but he wrapped his arm around the waist of his wife, telling himself differently.

  “I think it would be best if he slept with us tonight.” She cradled him into her arms careful to not wake him.

  “I agree. I think we should keep a close eye on him.” Dakota followed Dawn out the nursery and down the hall to the master bedroom where she lay Neil down on her bed. She watched him breathe until she fell asleep.

  Dakota lied awake watching the two people in his world that make his life worth getting up everyday. His mind was stirring.

  “Are we both so exhausted that we are hearing things? It can’t be imaginary or in our heads if we are hearing the same thing. Then the whole thing with Neil tonight. He is far too young to be holding himself in that position, let alone to position himself. And what was that comment Dawn made? Who was there? Who was she referring to? How is she able to sleep when our three week olds nursery seems to be haunted. Why is she so calm? Dawn is usually making a huge scene by now. Why after the birth of our son has my hot headed wife suddenly become normal just when I need her to make a big deal out of this.”

  Tik tik tik. Dakota tossed and turned. It was now 4:14AM. Neil has slept through the night. He may not have been present in his other childrens life like he wanted to, but he knew it was extremely unusual for a three week old to hold his own head up, position himself in the sitting position and sitting upright for a long time. He knew he should wake him to feed him since he needed to be fed every two hours. His wife lie next to them with her hand resting on his chest.

  His rising chest soothed her.

  Dakota eased his wifes hand away from the baby hoping she doesn’t wake up.

  “Get your grimy hands off my son you prick of a bastard!” Dawn jerked awake in fight mode.

  “Baby, it’s me. Your husband.” Dakota reassured her.

  “Oh I am sorry honey.” Dawn rubbed her eyes. “Was he crying? Did I not wake?”

  “He slept through the whole night. I did not sleep a wink. I thought since I was awake and he slept through the night, I should feed him and spend a little bit of quality time before I have to leave for work in an hour.” Dakota carried Neil to the kitchen to make him a bottle.

  “Coffee?” Dawn asked, even though she was already preparing it for him. Extra sugar. Extra hazelnut cream.

  He grabbed the premade bottles made with his wifes breastmilk.

  “Of course.” He kissed her on the cheek and walked to the living room to sit in that beautifully comfortable Lazy Boy chair. “Ya know, I was thinkin’, I should take Neil with me to work today. I know someone has to watch him while I am loading cars and getting signiatures from customers, but I think I can talk to boss and figure something out. See if he can give me some easy calls.”

  Dawn handed him his coffee. “I think that is a great idea, honey. You take him for the day and I can go do some grocery shopping.” She knew how long they have waited for a child together, and he had been back at work for one week now. She understood how he must be missing his little peanut.

  Dakota felt a warm sense of contentment as he cradled Neil in his arms, taking a sip of the perfectly made coffee. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the room, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for these serene moments with his family.

  “You know, Dawn, every time I look at him, I feel like the luckiest man alive,” Dakota said, his voice filled with emotion.

  Dawn smiled, her heart swelling with love for her husband and their beautiful baby boy. “We really are blessed, Dakota. Neil brings so much joy into our lives.”

  As he finished his coffee, Dakota carefully placed Neil back into his crib, making sure he was comfortable before heading to the bedroom to gather his work things. Dawn joined him, their routine synchronized in a dance of mutual understanding and shared responsibilities.

  “Do you need me to pack anything special for Neil today?” Dawn asked, folding a small blanket and placing it in the diaper bag.

  “Just his favorite toy and a couple of extra bottles,” Dakota replied, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

  With a kiss on her cheek, Dakota headed out the door, feeling ready to face the day with his son by his side. Dawn watched them go, her heart filled with a mix of pride and tenderness, knowing that their bond was growing stronger with each passing day.

  She turned her attention to the grocery list, planning meals that would nourish and delight her family. As she stepped into the quiet, sunlit kitchen, she felt a deep sense of satisfaction, knowing that together, they were building a life grounded in love, support, and endless possibilities.

  Dakota gently placed Neil in his car seat, securing the straps and making sure his little boy was comfortable. The bright pink tow truck, a familiar and comforting sight, almost seemed to smile back at him. He climbed into the driver’s seat, taking a moment to savor the quiet before the engine roared to life.

  Before starting the truck, Dakota reached for the well-worn deer stuffed animal sitting on the center of the dashboard. He held it in his hands, feeling the soft fabric and the weight it carried. Turning to Neil, he handed the toy to his three-month-old son, his voice gentle yet filled with emotion.

  “Hey buddy, I want you to have this,” Dakota said softly. “This deer was bought for your sibling, who isn’t here with us anymore. It’s really special to me, and I believe it will protect you, just like it was meant to protect them.”

  Neil gurgled happily, clutching the stuffed animal, oblivious to the poignant significance it held for his father. Dakota watched him, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, feeling the depth of his love and the connection to the child they had lost.

  “Your sibling may not be here, but their spirit lives on through you, and this little deer will always remind us of that,” Dakota whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “You’re our miracle, Neil, and we’ll always cherish every moment with you.”

  Taking a deep breath, Dakota wiped away a tear and turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and the familiar rumble of the tow truck filled the air. As they drove off, Dakota felt a renewed sense of purpose, knowing that he was honoring the memory of his lost child while creating new memories with Neil by his side.

  As Dakota and Neil cruised down the road, the rumble of the tow truck echoed through the countryside, each bump and jolt sending a familiar jiggle through the cab. Dakota glanced down at his son, who was bobbing along happily, clutching his deer stuffed animal.

  Suddenly, Dakota's phone rang, blaring the unmistakable twang of a country song. He fished it out of his pocket and answered.

  "Howdy! What’s up boss?" he hollered.

  On the other end, his boss, Foolios, voice boomed through the speaker, "Hey man! Got a situation down at the tow lot. We got ourselves a monster truck turned over right in front of the lot, and I'm bettin' it's gonna be a hoot to tow. Did the wife agree to let you bring Neil? We’re all excited to meet the little fella."

  Dakota chuckled, "You betcha! Little man’s ready for some action." He glanced at Neil, who gurgled in agreement, a tiny fist raised as if to say, "Let's go, Dad!"

  As they approached the tow lot, Dakota noticed Foolio, waving wildly. Next to him stood the offending vehicle, a monster truck precariously perched on top of a car, flatted it. Foolio grinned ear to ear. Shiny black tires, green with flames painted on the front.

  "Well, ain't this a sight for sore eyes," Dakota drawled, pulling up next to Foolio. "Guess that feller didn't get the memo about parking spaces."

  Foolio slapped his knee, "You ain't kiddin'! We're gonna need every ounce of horsepower to pull this off."

  Dakota turned to Neil, who was staring wide-eyed at the spectacle. "Ready, buddy? Time to show 'em how it's done!"

  He climbed out of the truck, pulling Neil into his arms. With a wink to Foolio, Dakota set Neil down in a playpen adorned with mud-flap girl stickers and a miniature beer cooler (for milk, of course). He strapped him in a blue and green bouncy seat. It was personally made by his boss. It had the colors and logo of the tow truck company.

  As Dakota fired up the tow truck's winch, he couldn't help but add a bit of flair. He cranked up the radio, blasting "Friends in Low Places," and twirled an imaginary lasso like a rodeo star.

  Foolio hooted and hollered in approval, "Yeehaw! That's how we do it, Dakota!"

  With a deft hand, Dakota maneuvered the winch, dragging the monster truck off the unfortunate compact car. As the small crowd of onlookers cheered and clapped, Dakota bowed theatrically, tipping his hat to Neil, who giggled and waved his deer stuffed animal in the air.

  "Just another day in paradise, son," Dakota said, scooping Neil up as the compacted car owner thanked them profusely while swearing vulgarity at the monster truck owner.

  Dakota cradled Neil into his arms and strode over to his coworkers, who were huddled around a car that one of them had just picked up from a wreck, sharing a laugh. "Hey, fellas! Got someone special I want y’all to meet."

  The five men turned around, curious. The first was Javier, a tall man of Hispanic heritage with a warm smile. Next to him stood Foolio-his boss, a Filipino guy always ready with a joke. The rest were the white guys: Chuck, a burly fellow with a beard; Slim, lanky as his name suggested; and Big Mike, who was ironically the smallest of the group but had a personality twice as big.

  "Who's this lil' dude?" Chuck asked, scratching his beard.

  "This here’s Neil," Dakota announced proudly. "He’s my little sidekick for the day."

  Javier was the first to step forward, his deep voice resonating with warmth. "Hola, Neil! You ready to hang with the big boys?"

  Neil stared at Javier for a moment, then broke into a gummy smile. "Looks like you passed the test, Javi," Dakota said with a chuckle.

  Foolio, never one to miss an opportunity, chimed in next. "Hey, Neil! Wanna learn some Tagalog? First lesson: say 'kamusta!' It means 'how are you?'"

  Neil gurgled in response, his curiosity piqued by Foolios animated expression. "Close enough!" Rico laughed, giving Neil a playful fist bump.

  Chuck, with his rugged voice, leaned in. "Well, ain’t you just the spittin’ image of your old man. Need any beard grooming tips, you let me know, little buddy. You can tell your old man doesn’t know his way around the beard trimmers."

  Dakota rolled his eyes. "Don’t give him ideas, Chuck. He’s already got more hair than Big Mike here."

  Big Mike pretended to be offended, puffing up his chest. "Hey now, this dome is aerodynamic! Right, Neil?" He tilted his head so the sunlight gleamed off his bald scalp, making Neil giggle.

  Slim, who had been observing quietly, finally stepped forward. "Kid’s got the right idea. Stick with Dakota and you’ll be pulling monster trucks before you know it.”

  Neil, sensing the camaraderie, hugged his deer stuffed animal close, feeling right at home among Dakota’s friends. Dakota gave a nod of appreciation to his crew. "Alright, you jokers, let’s get back to work. Neil and I have a reputation to uphold."

  As they dispersed to their tasks, Javier patted Dakota on the back. "You’ve got a good kid there. He’ll fit right in."

  "And he’s got the best group of uncles to show him the ropes," Dakota replied with a smile, heading back to his truck, Neil happily bouncing along in his arms.

  Neil and Dakota settled into the truck, the engine's roar filling the air as they began their drive to the next call. The atmosphere shifted subtly as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that danced eerily on the road.

  Neil's eyes grew wide, captivated by the changing light. He hugged his deer stuffed animal tighter, sensing something unusual in the air. Dakota glanced at him and smiled reassuringly, though a creeping unease settled in the pit of his stomach. "Don't worry, buddy. We're just driving through the twilight."

  As they drove through the winding roads, the trees seemed to whisper secrets, their branches swaying with a life of their own. Suddenly, the truck's radio crackled to life, emitting a static-filled melody that was both haunting and oddly comforting. Neil's curiosity was piqued, and he turned his head towards the sound.

  Without warning, an ethereal figure appeared on the passenger seat beside Neil. It was a ghostly apparition, shimmering with a pale blue aura, its features soft and kind. Neil blinked but felt no fear—only a strange sense of calm. Dakota, on the other hand, felt a chill run down his spine, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

  "Hello, Neil, You are my brother. My bubba." the spirit whispered, its voice like a gentle breeze. "I’ve come to guide you tonight."

  Dakota's eyes widened, his heart pounding. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice shaking.

  The spirit turned to Dakota, its eyes filled with a deep sorrow and love. "I'm your daughter, from the first miscarriage you and Dawn had," the apparition said softly. "I’ve come to help, to protect Neil and you."

  Tears welled up in Dakota's eyes, a mixture of fear and profound sadness enveloping him. "I... I didn't know," he stammered. "But why now?"

  The spirit smiled gently. "Neil has a brave heart, and he needs guidance. There’s no need to be afraid, Dad. I'm here to help."

  Neil extended his small hand towards the spirit's, feeling a cool, gentle touch that sent a shiver down his spine. The spirit's touch was comforting, like a soft blanket on a cold night. The truck continued its journey, the eerie yet peaceful presence of the spirit enveloping them.

  "Remember, Neil, courage comes from within. Trust your heart, and you will always find your way," the spirit whispered, its words filling Dakota with a strange sense of peace.

  The spirit slowly followed them as they reached their call, watching over them with a sense of tranquility and strength. Neil looked at Dakota, his eyes shining with newfound confidence. Dakota nodded, feeling the same gentle assurance that Neil did.

  "Let's go, buddy," Dakota said, lifting Neil from the truck. "We've got work to do, and we've got good spirits watching over us."

  Together, they stepped into the night, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing they were not alone.

  As Dakota and the spirit walked towards the office, the air was thick with unspoken emotions.

  "Dad, I can hardly believe it's you," the spirit said softly, her ethereal presence shimmering in the moonlight.

  Dakota looked at her, his heart swelling with a mixture of shock and joy. "I never thought I'd see you again," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I’m both shocked and happy... my daughter."

  The spirit smiled warmly, her eyes glittering with love. "I've always been here, watching over you and Mom. Ever since Neil was born, I have been trying to make direct contact with you and mommy. Tonight is special because you gave Neil the stuffed animal you bought when mom was pregnant with me."

  As they entered the office, Dakota's hands shook slightly as he picked up the keys to the GTR-34. "We need to tow this car to the shop," he said, his mind still reeling from the encounter.

  Dakota, holding tightly onto the spirit's hand, looked up at her with wide eyes. "Will you ride with me in the front seat and hold your brother?" he asked the seven year old spirit. His voice innocent and hopeful. Unsure of how these things worked.

  "Of course, daddy, I am the one who was holding Neil last night. I am sorry it spooked you." the spirit replied, her voice soothing. "Let's ride daddio."

  Dakota, now more focused, led them to the truck. The spirit climbed into the front seat, with baby Neil in her arms, gently placing her hands around him, guiding him as Dakota began to drive the GTR-34 up the bed of the tow truck.

  The engine roared to life, and as Dakota maneuvered the car, he couldn't help but glance over at the spirit holding Neil. "This feels surreal," he muttered, shaking his head.

  "You've always done your best, Dad," the spirit reassured him. "I'm proud of you."

  As the truck made its way down the road, Dakota looked at his daughter, a tear escaping his eye.

  "I always dreamt of the day I get to meet you," he said, his voice choked with emotion.

  "Tonight, we're together," the spirit smiled gently. "And that's what matters."

  Neil, feeling the cool, gentle touch of the spirit holding him, grinned widely. "Sissy” He spoke his first words. At three months old.

  Dakota nodded, a sense of peace washing over him. "Yes, Neil," he said, his voice firm. "We've got good spirits watching over us."

  The journey continued, the truck moving steadily towards the shop.