The Ones Who Came Back from the Mountain

1
My entire family left for a ski trip to the Aspen mountains, leaving me behind.
“I didn't know you couldn't even ski or rock climb, Nora,” Sherry, the girl I was swapped at birth with, pouted. “If I’d known, I would’ve picked somewhere else.”
My parents and brother rushed to console her, saying it wasn't her fault—I was just too ‘uncultured’ for such things.
If only Sherry never came back, I thought, watching their car disappear down the drive.
Then the unthinkable happened.
An avalanche tore through the resort. My parents and brother returned home, looking like shell-shocked ghosts.
“Sherry didn't make it out,” my mother wailed, pulling me into a crushing hug. “Nora, you're our only daughter now.”
But I felt no relief. No joy.
Because a second earlier, a text had buzzed on my phone. It was from Sherry.
“Nora! Mom, Dad, and Leo are all dead!”
...
My mother must have felt me go rigid in her arms, because she slowly pulled back.
“What's wrong, Nora? We're back now. Don't be scared.”
Her voice was so gentle it was alien to me. She only ever spoke that way to Sherry. With me, her tone was always as cold and sharp as winter ice.
I stared at the three figures standing in the doorway. Though their faces were bruised and their clothes were stained with patches of what looked like dried blood, they were unmistakably my mother, my father, and my brother, Leo.
So why would Sherry say they were dead?
No, wait. If my mother was telling the truth, Sherry was the one who didn't survive the avalanche. So who sent me that text?
“Let’s get you out of those filthy clothes,” Leo said, his voice hoarse. He helped our sobbing mother into the living room. “Nora needs a minute to process everything.”
As they passed me, a wave of bone-deep cold washed over me, making me shiver.
A comment I’d seen on a news article about the avalanche flashed through my mind.
“A tourist caught in a slide that big? They’re gone. If your loved ones come home safe, take a good, hard look. Make sure they're still human.”
The commenter, who claimed to be a mountain guide, had tried to explain that victims of a disaster sometimes don’t realize they’ve died and are driven by a single, obsessive need to return home. He was relentlessly flamed and deleted the comment.
Something that bizarre…
Could it be happening to me?
As if on cue, the last ray of sunlight vanished below the horizon, plunging the living room into a deep, oppressive twilight. Or maybe it was just my imagination, but the temperature in the house seemed to drop several degrees.
“Nora, what are you doing just standing there? Close the door,” my father’s voice rasped from the shadows.
The way he turned was… wrong. He didn’t just turn his head; his entire torso rotated with it, stiffly, like he was frozen solid.
The hair on my arms stood on end. I took an instinctive step back, my hand fumbling behind me for the doorknob.
My phone buzzed again, a frantic vibration against my palm.
It was Sherry. She’d sent a picture.
Three black body bags, lined up neatly in a row.
A new text followed. “They just flew the bodies back. Where the hell are you, Nora? I told you to get a car and meet me.”
BANG!
An arm slammed the door shut behind me.
I snapped my head up, my eyes meeting my brother’s. He was looking down at me, his face unreadable.
“Nora,” he murmured, his voice a low whisper, “who are you texting?”

2
He took another step forward, his presence filling the cramped entryway. I hadn’t noticed it before, but his skin had a sickly, grayish pallor, like meat that had been left in a freezer for days.
My back was pressed hard against the door; there was nowhere left to run.
I frantically mashed the power button, the screen going dark, and forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. “It was just Grandma and Grandpa. Asking if I’d heard anything. I was just letting them know you were safe.”
Leo paused, then nodded slowly. A flicker of something like sadness crossed his face.
“Ah. It’s a shame about Sherry. She was so fragile… she didn’t make it until the rescue team arrived. You should probably break the news to them gently.”
He sighed. “Oh, right. I should call the rescue team, let them know we’re okay. I lost my phone on the mountain. Let me borrow yours.”
Before I could react, he snatched my phone and held it up to my face to unlock it with facial recognition.
Panic flared in my chest and I lunged for it, a purely instinctual reaction.
Leo seemed startled by my sudden movement and lost his footing. He crashed to the floor with a heavy thud. The phone flew from his hand, hit the wall, and shattered into a spiderweb of glass and plastic.
“Nora, are you okay?” he said, scrambling to his feet. In a complete break from character, he didn't scold me. Instead, he anxiously checked to see if I was hurt. “I’m so sorry. I’ll buy you the newest iPhone in a few days, I promise.”
A lump formed in my throat.
A crazy thought sparked in my mind: if they could always be this kind to me, did it really matter if they were human or not?
“I’m fine, Leo. It’s just too dark in here. Let me get the lights.”
Taking a deep breath, I reached for the light switch. A common saying echoed in my mind: ghosts have no shadows. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying that this was all just my terrified imagination running wild.
Click.
The chandelier blazed to life, bathing the opulent living room in brilliant white light.
And behind all three of them, faint but distinct shadows stretched across the floor.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
My mother warmed a pot of milk for my father and Leo, but poured a glass of juice for me.
“For your lactose intolerance,” she said with a soft smile. “You can have this.”
I took the glass, stunned. It was cherry juice, my favorite. This was the same woman who used to call my condition a “poor person’s disease” and force me to drink milk until I was sick, insisting I had to “get used to it.”
“Nora,” my father said, his voice heavy, a trace of guilt on his stern face. “Sherry’s master bedroom… you should move in there.”
Leo looked at me with an apologetic expression and gently ruffled my hair. “And make sure you lock your doors and windows. Especially on the ground floor.”
I lowered my head, taking small sips of the juice. The sweetness spread from my mouth to my heart, and for a moment, I didn’t want to think about Sherry’s messages at all.
Leo was still talking. “Especially tonight. Don’t open the door for anyone. Especially not for Sherry.”
“Who?” I asked, sure I had misheard.
At that exact moment, the chandelier flickered violently.
And then went out.
In the suffocating darkness, I could feel three wooden faces turn toward me.
Three voices spoke in unison.
“Don’t let Sherry in.”

3
“What happened to the lights? Another power outage in the neighborhood?” my father grumbled, getting up to check the fuse box.
The sudden darkness sent a shiver down my spine, but their last words were still ringing in my ears. I forced myself to ask, “Sherry? Why would she be at the door? I thought she was… gone.”
The dining table fell silent for a moment.
Then, my mother began to sob softly again.
“She is. But just before she passed… she kept asking why. Why it wasn't you in the avalanche. Why it wasn’t you who died.”
Her words choked off into a sob. Leo sighed heavily.
“We’re afraid her resentment might keep her here… she might try to harm you. It’s always better to be safe than sorry. We’ll be careful for now, and then find a good day to have a cleansing ritual performed for her.”
I hugged my arms tight, my thoughts a tangled mess. Their explanation sounded plausible. And even though they had always favored Sherry, the concern they were showing me now was something I had only ever dreamed of.
Sherry, on the other hand, had been my tormentor from the day I was welcomed—or rather, tolerated—back into this family. She was terrified of losing her parents' affection, of going from princess to pauper overnight. The ski trip itself had been her idea; she’d specifically chosen the destination after learning I couldn’t ski or climb.
Who was I supposed to believe?
My father’s footsteps returned, accompanied by a string of curses. “Yep, the power’s out. We pay such high property management fees for what? Not even a backup generator. All they do is hand out candles.”
He pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit four white candles.
The wicks caught, casting an eerie, greenish glow.
Leo’s face changed in an instant.
He blew them all out in a single breath.
“These candles are wrong! Dad, did the security guard hand these to you himself?”
My father looked confused. “No, they were just sitting on the doorstep. If it wasn’t security, then who—?”
He stopped mid-sentence.
We’d had power outages before, but management had never distributed candles.
Four candles. The exact number of people in this house.
A shiver traced its way down my spine.
Could it be… was Sherry’s ghost really here to torment us?
Wait.
If Sherry was right and my family’s bodies had been recovered, their names would be on the official list of victims. My phone was broken, but there was a laptop in Sherry’s bedroom. If I could just confirm who died, I could stop scaring myself.
“I—I think I’m going to go to bed,” I said, pretending to be frightened as I stood up.
“Lock your doors and windows, and don’t wander around. Call for us if you need anything,” my mother said, patting the back of my hand.
Her palm was icy cold, the touch so chilling it jolted me.
And it cleared my head.
Their kindness… it felt too deliberate. Too forced. I could understand a change of heart after losing one daughter, but could it really be this sudden, this complete?
I quickly locked myself in Sherry’s room. The laptop, however, hadn’t been used in ages and the battery was dead.
I rubbed my throbbing temples. Just my luck. I’d have to wait for the power to come back on.
I got up to close the window.
The pale moonlight streamed into the room, casting my reflection on the glass.
And behind me, standing in the darkest corner of the room, was Sherry.

4
“Ahhh—!”
A scream tore from my throat, my mind blank with terror. My legs turned to jelly, refusing to move. I could only watch as Sherry crossed the room in two long strides and clamped a hand over my mouth.
Her hand was devoid of any human warmth. Her clothes were soaking wet, as if she had just clawed her way out of an ice-filled crypt. Her eyes, stark white against black pupils, were wide and staring, practically pressed against my face.
“Who are the people outside?” Sherry’s voice was flat and wooden, each word forced out. “Why do I hear Mom, Dad, and Leo?”
I struggled frantically until she finally loosened her grip.
I didn’t know how to answer. If my family’s story was true, and I admitted it was them outside, would Sherry remember she was dead and drag me down with her out of spite? But if I lied, how could I explain it?
“Nora. Speak,” Sherry’s tone grew more menacing, her icy fingers tightening around my neck.
But what if my parents’ story was the lie? What if Sherry was the real survivor?
I had to take a chance.
“Are you sure Mom, Dad, and Leo died in the avalanche?” I asked, turning her question back on her.
Sherry’s brow furrowed in annoyance, a familiar habit whenever she had to deal with me.
“Obviously. The rescue team dug them out themselves and filed the death certificates. How could it be fake?” she snapped. “I sent you the pictures. It’s hard to get a cab when you’re hauling three bodies, and it’s pouring rain out there. That’s why I asked you to pick me up. Were you just ignoring me on purpose?”
The words tumbled out of her in a rush, and some color finally returned to her pale face. My heart rate began to slow, but my doubts weren't completely gone.
“If I didn’t pick you up, how did you get back? And why didn't you use the front door? Why were you hiding in here?”
Sherry stared at me, her eyes hollow. The vacant look sent a fresh wave of goosebumps across my skin.
“You have the nerve to ask me that? I had to call a hearse from the crematorium to take them first before any taxi would even consider picking me up,” she said. “I got to the front door and heard Mom, Dad, and Leo talking, saying they couldn't let me in. What kind of sick game are you playing, Nora? They’re dead!”
Sherry shoved her phone in my face. The screen showed a call log to a local crematorium and a digital copy of the official victims’ list, with my parents’ and brother’s names clearly written. A crematorium wouldn’t just take bodies without verifying their identities.
My mind went completely blank. Her story was just as plausible.
But if she was telling the truth, then who were the three people outside?
I stammered as I told her how my family had arrived before her, claiming that she was the one who had died in the avalanche.
Sherry’s mouth fell open. Before she could speak, a loud, heavy banging echoed from the bedroom door.
Knock-knock-knock-knock. Knock-knock-knock-knock.
“Nora, was that you screaming? What’s happening in there?” It was my mother’s voice, laced with panic.
Sherry’s face darkened instantly. She pressed a finger to her lips. “Don’t make a sound!”
“People knock three times,” she whispered, her voice a ghostly breath. “Ghosts knock four.”

First, search for and download the MotoNovel app from Google. Then, open the app and use the code "263527" to read the entire book.