"That's impossible."
"It's Grace," I whispered. "She's at her old school."
Instead of telling me I was imagining things, he went pale. Truly pale.
He picked up the phone and hung up quickly.
"It's a scam. AI voice cloning. People can fake anything now. Don't go there."
"But whoever it was knew her name. The person on the phone sounded like her, Neil."
"It's a scam. AI voice cloning."
"Obituaries are public. Social media exists. Anyone could pull that information."
When I grabbed my keys from the hook by the door, Neil stepped in front of me.
"Babe, you can't go," he said, panic flashing across his face. "Please."
"Please what, Neil? My hands were shaking, but my voice wasn't. "If she's dead, why are you afraid of a ghost unless she isn't one?"
"Don't do this," he said quietly. "You won't like what you find."
"Babe, you can't go."
I didn't answer. I just pushed past him and headed to the car.
The drive was a blur. I don't remember traffic lights or stop signs and gripping the steering wheel so hard my fingers hurt. When I reached the school, I jumped out and ran inside. The receptionist looked startled to see me.
"She's in the principal's office," she said softly.
I rushed to the principal's office and barged in.
The girl was sitting across from Frank.
"She's in the principal's office."
She looked about 13, taller and thinner, but it was her.
"Mom?" she whispered.
I crossed the room in seconds and dropped to my knees in front of her.
"My Grace," I sobbed, pulling her into my arms.
She was warm. Solid. Real!
My daughter wrapped her arms around me as if she were afraid I'd disappear.
She looked about 13.
"Why did you never come for me?" she cried into my shoulder.
"I thought you were gone," I choked.
Grace pulled back just enough to look at me. Her eyes were red and scared. Before she could respond, someone stepped in behind us. It was Neil. He stood there, breathing hard.
Grace turned slowly. "Dad?"
He stared at her as if he were looking at something impossible.
"Why did you never come for me?"
"You knew she was alive," I said.
"No," he replied, but his voice lacked conviction.