Leo looked at the skull-and-crossbones bottle under the sink, then at his daughter’s proud, vinegar-scented face. He smiled.

Mia leaned over. “Give it a drink.”

Leo poured the vinegar. For a second, nothing happened. Then, the drain woke up .

From that day on, every last Tuesday of the month was “Sink Spa Day.” They’d pour the baking soda, listen to the fizzing volcano, and watch the water spin away clean. The plumber never got called. And the only ghost left in the kitchen was the memory of a sour smell that had finally, peacefully, been set free.

Mia tugged his sleeve. “No, Dad. The science lady at school said baking soda is magic.”