Ghosted: Threads Between Worlds (Part II)

Ghosted: Threads Between Worlds (Part II)
Dr. Parks’ voice was calm but carried an undercurrent of urgency. “Is Robert with you?” she asked.

Molly froze, glancing at him. Robert raised an eyebrow, muttering, “How does she know that?”

“I don’t know,” Molly said carefully. She turned her attention back to the phone “Yes. He just… came back. He wasn’t supposed to, but he’s here. How do you know that?”

“Good. That’s good.” A pause. “I had a feeling after the appointment something like this would happen. I think it’s time we spoke honestly. Both of you. There are things you need to understand about your child—and about Robert.”

Molly’s pulse quickened. She put the phone on speaker. “We’re listening.”

“Alright. Your child is remarkable—alive when others like them are not. And I needed to confirm something about Robert before I explained why.”

Molly reached for Robert’s hand out of instinct, her fingers brushing through mist.

“You see,” Dr. Parks continued, “when a ghost and a living person conceive, the pregnancy almost never lasts. The spirit’s energy is volatile—unmoored. It burns too brightly. The living body can’t contain it.”

“But Charlotte’s did.”

“Yes. I didn’t say it was impossible; I said it’s rare, and your pregnancy is…Molly you’re different.”

Molly’s throat tightened. “Different how?”

“You carry an energy I’ve only read about. It isn’t paranormal. It isn’t supernatural. It’s you. A steady, self-sustaining current that acts like a generator. Most people’s life force flickers, like a flame. Yours hums like an engine. Constant. Strong. That current is protecting the child—balancing Robert’s energy instead of being consumed by it, and your child feeds on it.”

Robert stared at her, his expression unreadable.

Dr. Parks’ voice dropped lower. “But there is another reason your baby is thriving. Robert, I must ask: did you die a violent death?”

Molly’s head snapped toward him. Robert’s jaw clenched. For a long moment, silence filled the room.

“Yes,” he said finally. His voice was low, simmering with restrained rage. “I was murdered.”

Molly’s stomach twisted. The word hit her harder than she expected, considering she’d already known.

“That explains it,” Dr. Parks said grimly. “When a soul is torn violently from life, it leaves behind a residue. Rage. Power. That kind of energy doesn’t fade easily. It clings. It makes a ghost stronger—far stronger than most. Robert, you are not an ordinary spirit. You are a nexus of violent energy, and that strength is passing to your child.”

Molly’s breath hitched. She looked at Robert, searching his face for answers, but all she found was fire.

“So what does that mean for our baby?” she asked, voice trembling.

Dr. Parks hesitated. “It means your child will be powerful. Perhaps dangerously so. They will carry both of you—Robert’s fury and your current. Together, it makes them… unprecedented. I don’t know what they’ll become. But I do know this: you must be careful. Because others—if they learn—will want that child. Not only that, but the birth of this child will be taxing on you, Molly. You two really need to decide how to move forward. Your baby already has powers in the womb, there is no telling what will come later.”

The call ended, but silence lingered. Robert paced, his form flickering with the force of his emotions. Molly sat frozen on the couch, hands clasped over her belly.

“Murdered,” she whispered, the word tasting bitter on her tongue. She lifted her gaze to him. “Why didn’t you tell me that this would affect our child? Did you know?”

His jaw tightened. “Heubert told me on our last visit, but I didn’t want to worry you. Especially knowing it wouldn’t change anything. I didn’t want you to see me only through that. Through how I died. I know I should have told you but you were already going through so much because of me and I couldn’t be here to see you through what the truth would bring. I just didn’t know what to do.”

Tears blurred her vision. “Robert, this baby—we’re supposed to protect them. How can we do that if I don’t even understand what you are?”

He stopped pacing, kneeling in front of her though his hands couldn’t touch. His eyes burned into hers.

“I may have been murdered,” he said, his voice low, fervent, “but I’m still yours. And I will protect you both with every ounce of power I have. My death gave me strength, yes—but it’s you who gave me life again. You, Molly. And now, our child.”

Molly’s tears slipped free, falling hot against her cheeks. She pressed her palm to the place where her baby kicked, feeling the tiniest flutter, and whispered, “Then we’ll protect them together.”

Robert’s form steadied, the storm in him settling into a fierce calm. For the first time in weeks, Molly felt hope burn steadily in her chest—like that current Dr. Parks had described, humming quietly, endlessly, within her.

And though the future was uncertain, she knew one thing with absolute clarity: their child would not face it alone.

Robert let out a long exhale. “I think my get out of jail free card is up,” he said, forcing a smile. He rubbed her stomach. “Be nice to Mommy, okay? It’s our job to protect her.” Molly’s stomach illuminated with a bright yellow light, causing her and Robert’s eyes to widen. “Woah.”

“I know.”

Saying nothing else, Robert disappeared and Molly caressed her belly. “I love you,” she said. “The both of you.”