Her voice cracked. "I'm useless. I couldn't save you six years ago... and I can't save you now."
Her tears fell, heavy and silent, splashing onto her hands.
I reached out instinctively to wipe them away, but my hand passed straight through. Still, I stubbornly tried again and again.
"Amelia," I said softly, "whether you can help me or not doesn't matter. I just want you to be brave—like you were six years ago."
She looked up at me, her dazed expression slowly clearing. A hint of determination flickered in her eyes.
"Sherry, there are still nine days left. I'll definitely find a way!"
As soon as Amelia said that, the sharp sound of brakes pierced the air.
A familiar, lazy voice followed from the shiny Porsche parked beside her.
"Sister-in-law, even if you sit under the company building all day, my brother still won't notice. Want me to help... hey, what's that ghost thing floating next to you?!"
I turned toward Donald, who was sitting in the driver's seat, and accidentally let my eyeballs fly right out of their sockets.
How unlucky—one of them smacked him right in the face.
"Ah, sorry! I've been dead for a while, and, uh... some of my parts are past their warranty."