He tried to rationalize the occurrence. Maybe it was a malfunction, a random sending of a draft message, or even the doing of a well-meaning friend who might have found the phone and decided to send a comforting note. But none of these explanations rang true in the depth of night, alone with his thoughts and the ghost of his wife’s memory.

Unable to shake the feeling that there was something more to this message, he decided to reply. His hands shook as he typed, “We miss you, too. Our daughter will always know how much you love her.” He hit send, half expecting nothing to happen, half hoping for another sign that his wife was somehow still with them.

Minutes passed like hours, the room silent except for the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the mantel. Then, with a soft chime, the phone lit up again. Another message from his number, “Thank you for everything. Keep living, laugh often, and find happiness. I’ll be watching over you.”

This time, a wave of peace washed over him. The message felt like a farewell, a final goodbye that he hadn’t been ready to give. As much as he wanted to hold onto the possibility of a supernatural connection, he knew he had to find closure, to treasure the memory of his wife in a way that allowed him to move forward.

He placed the phone down gently and looked at his sleeping daughter, her face the perfect blend of both him and his wife. In her peaceful expression, he saw the promise of tomorrow, a future where the love he shared with his wife would continue in a different form.