MY DAUGHTER WHISPERED, “DADDY, SHE’S DIFFERENT WHEN YOU’RE GONE.” AND I SHOULD’VE LISTENED SOONER.
Two years after losing my wife, I met Amelia.
Warm, patient, radiant—she brought color back into a life that had gone gray.
My daughter Sophie, just five years old, and I moved into her beautiful home—an old estate passed down from her late parents.
For a while, everything felt… hopeful.
Then, after a business trip, Sophie hugged me tighter than usual. Her voice trembled.
“Daddy, my new mom is different when you’re gone.”
A chill crept down my spine.
“What do you mean, sweetheart?”
“She locks herself in the attic. I hear weird noises… and she tells me I’m not allowed in. And she’s mean.”
My stomach turned.
“How is she mean?” I asked softly.
“She makes me clean alone. No ice cream. Even when I’m good.”
At first, I wanted to dismiss it as a child’s frustration. But I’d noticed the attic.
Always locked. Always off-limits.
I just never questioned it—until now.
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
Then I heard her. Soft footsteps.
Heading up the creaky stairs toward the attic.
This time, she didn’t lock the door.
My heart pounded. I crept up… and pushed it open.
What I saw in that room?
Two years after my wife’s passing, I remarried, hoping to rebuild my family. But when my 5-year-old daughter whispered, “Daddy, new mom is different when you’re gone,” I was stunned. Strange noises from a locked attic, strict rules, and Sophie’s fear spark a chilling mystery I can’t ignore.
