Every evening she appeared: a little girl, no more than five years old, motionless in the window, waving at me.

This whole situation confused me. Who could she be? What was she trying to tell me?

One evening, as I was sitting in the living room with my wife, I mentioned her again. “That little girl I told you about is at the window again,” I said. Sandy closed her book, came over, and said, “You mean the one who always waves at you?”

I nodded, feeling a pang in my heart. “Yes, but there’s something in her eyes… like she’s calling for help, like she urgently wants to say something.”

The next day I decided to knock on my neighbors’ doors to find out more.

After a moment, an older woman, clearly tired, opened the door.

“Hello, I live across the street and I noticed your little girl. She often stands in the window and waves at me. I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

The woman seemed a little worried, almost nervous. Then she replied:

“She’s my granddaughter. Her parents died recently, so she lives with me now. She doesn’t know anyone here yet, and she’s very lonely. If it bothers you, I’ll tell her to stop.”

“No, it doesn’t bother me at all. I’m so sorry for your loss,” I replied honestly.

Since then, I’ve waved to her every day. It’s become a little ritual for us. I hope she’ll feel better in time.