The unfinished goodbye

The night air was a heavy shroud, the only sound the frantic patter of a little boy’s feet and the silent, cold dread that gripped the man walking beside him. David had promised his wife he would protect their son, Ethan, no matter the cost, a vow that felt impossible to keep as a spectral presence crystallized from the frigid air around them.
The ghost wasn’t a monster; it was his wife, Sarah, frozen in a terrifying visage of anguish, her form cracking like ice as she tried to reach them. A terrible accident had taken her life just hours ago, and now her spirit, desperate and confused, clung to the physical world, haunting the only people she loved.
Below them, the few people on the street recoiled in terror, screaming and pointing, their fear a stark contrast to David’s quiet resignation. He couldn’t hear their screams over the silent pleas he felt radiating from Sarah’s spirit. The little boy, Ethan, was crying not just from the cold, but from the unbearable weight of a mother’s unfinished love that pulled at his small jacket.
David knew he had to let her go. He reached out a trembling hand, not to fight the spirit, but to guide her towards the light. “We’re okay, Sarah,” he whispered, his voice catching. “You have to go.” The ghostly form shimmered, a flicker of understanding replacing the raw grief in her eyes before she dissolved completely into the cold night air, leaving only the living behind in the stark city light.