The week passed in a blur of false leads and empty reports.

From dawn to dusk, Ed followed Monna through alleys, abandoned construction sites, and silent hills that locals swore were haunted. Every coordinate turned up nothing. Every sensor came back clean.

Monna didn’t seem fazed. She flipped her folder shut after another fruitless interview and shrugged.  

“Welcome to field work, rookie. Half the time, the world’s asleep. The other half, it’s pretending.”

Ed gave a tired smile. “So… today was the pretending half?”

“Exactly.” She stretched, the setting sun glinting off her badge chain. “Enough chasing ghosts. We’re off duty. Let’s grab a drink.”

He blinked. “Now?”

She tilted her head, smirking. “What? You afraid of a little alcohol? Come on, you’ve earned a night without paperwork.”

The bar was hidden behind a narrow street of old brick buildings—warm light spilling from the windows, soft music floating through the doorway. Inside, the air smelled of whiskey, coffee, and rain.

Monna slid into a seat at the counter, waving for the bartender. “One double. And whatever the kid wants.”

Ed sat beside her, glancing around. The place was half full—ordinary people laughing, talking, living lives untouched by classified reports or containment protocols. For the first time in a long while, it felt almost unreal.

“Not bad, huh?” Monna said, taking a sip. “Sometimes normal people are the strangest thing you can see.”

Ed nodded faintly. He was about to reply—then stopped.

Across the room, near the window, sat a familiar figure.

**Marline Cain.**

Her hair was tied back neatly, dark against her pale dress. She was laughing with two coworkers, a half-empty wineglass beside her hand. The light from the streetlamp outside framed her face in soft gold.

Ed froze, his heartbeat catching in his throat.

Monna noticed instantly. “Oh,” she said, amusement curling through her voice. “Now that’s interesting.”

He cleared his throat. “It’s… someone I met before.”

Monna raised an eyebrow. “Someone you *like,* I’m guessing.”

Ed didn’t answer, but his silence was answer enough.

Monna grinned. “Go on, rookie. I’m not your babysitter tonight.”

He shook his head quickly. “No, I— It’s fine. I’ll just—”

“Ed.” Her tone softened. “We deal with nightmares for a living. When the world gives you something human, you don’t overthink it. Go.”

For a moment, he hesitated. Then he exhaled slowly and stood.

Marline noticed him as he approached, surprise flickering across her face before turning into a quiet smile.

“Ed?” she said, setting down her glass. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

He smiled back, keeping his tone casual. “Neither did I. Long week. Needed some air.”

Her coworkers gave polite nods, then turned their conversation elsewhere.  

Marline tilted her head slightly. “So, you work nearby?”

“Something like that,” he said vaguely. “Mostly research. A lot of late nights, not much to show for it.”

She laughed lightly. “That sounds familiar. I work in finance, and I swear numbers follow me into my dreams.”

“Then we’re both haunted,” he said, smiling.

They talked for a while—about the city, about places they liked, about nothing important at all. The noise of the bar faded into background warmth.

When Marline excused herself to grab another drink, Ed turned slightly toward the counter.

Monna caught his glance from across the room, raising her glass with a knowing smirk.  

“Good boy,” she mouthed.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

---

Later that night, as the rain began to fall again, Ed walked outside with Marline. The streets glistened beneath the neon signs, and the air smelled of wet pavement and citrus.

She looked at him, eyes bright beneath the umbrella light. “It’s nice running into you again.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “It is.”

For a moment, he almost forgot the world he belonged to—the one hidden beneath this city, where files whispered of impossible things.

When they parted ways, she gave a small wave before disappearing into the crowd.  

Ed stood there for a while, letting the rain cool his thoughts.

From across the street, Monna leaned against the car, arms crossed. “You done making small talk, Casanova?”

He laughed. “You were watching?”

“I always watch my rookie,” she said. “Don’t read too much into it.”

They got into the car. As the engine started, the radio flickered briefly with static—then went silent.

Ed glanced out the window. The bar’s light glowed faintly through the rain, and for a fleeting second, he thought he saw Marline turn and look back at him from inside.

But when he blinked, she was gone.  

And the city swallowed the night whole once more.