My Daughter Pointed at a Waitress and Said, “That’s Mommy”… But We Buried Her 3 Years Ago
CHAPTER 1: THE WOMAN BEHIND THE COUNTER
Daniel unlocked the front door and stepped into the dark apartment.
"Lily?"
No answer.
His stomach tightened.
Then he saw her.
His six-year-old daughter was sitting on the floor by the couch, hugging her stuffed rabbit. The TV was off. The room was silent.
"Hey, sweetheart."
Lily looked up. Her eyes were red.
"Daddy."
Daniel checked the clock. Almost 9 p.m.
Guilt hit him hard.
"I'm sorry. Work got crazy again."
"You said we'd watch a movie."
"I know."
"You promised."
The word stabbed deeper than she knew.
Daniel knelt beside her.
"You're right. I messed up."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then he smiled.
"How about this? We go get your favorite chocolate cookies right now."
Lily's eyes lit up.
"Even though it's raining?"
"Especially because it's raining."
Ten minutes later, they were walking through the wet streets, sharing one umbrella and laughing.
The small café on the corner was warm and cozy.
Lily happily bit into a cookie while Daniel watched her.
Finally.
She was smiling again.
Then suddenly...
She froze.
The cookie slipped from her fingers.
Her face turned pale.
"Dad..."
Her voice shook.
"Look..."
She pointed toward the counter.
"That's Mommy."
Daniel's heart stopped.
Slowly, he turned.
A waitress in a simple apron looked up from the register.
The cup in Daniel's hand slipped and shattered on the floor.
Because the woman staring back at him was his wife...
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The wife who had died three years ago.
TO BE CONTINUED...
