Chapter 27 - A Ghost

The city looked different at night.

Emma watched the skyline from the passenger seat, the neon lights smearing against the glass as Kath drove through the narrow streets. Everything felt sharper in the dark, shadows stretched long, the air carried a bite, and the silence between buildings was thick with unspoken things.

The apartment investigation had given them something solid. Kang Joon-suk. A name that carried weight, power, and a trail of ruined lives behind it.

Emma had spent years chasing ghosts, picking apart scattered clues, trying to piece together what had happened to her father. And now, finally, she had something real. A connection. A direction.

Kath turned the wheel, glancing at Emma. "You're quiet."

Emma didn't look away from the window. "Thinking."

"Thinking about Kang?"

Emma nodded. "And the paparazzi. He knew something."

Kath sighed, eyes flicking to the road. "Yeah. And now he's dead."

The words settled between them. Heavy. Undeniable.

Emma shifted, her fingers tapping against her thigh. "We need to figure out what he found. If he got too close to something, then there's a trail. Somewhere."

Kath exhaled. "Alright. Where do we start?"

Emma pulled out the victim's notebook, flipping through the pages again.

"The restaurant," she muttered. "He ordered food at 8:37 PM. If he had company, maybe the staff remembers something."

Kath arched a brow. "You really think they'd notice one guy out of hundreds of customers?"

"Not the customers," Emma said. "The delivery driver."

Kath blinked. Then a slow grin spread across her face. "Damn. That's smart."

Emma gave a small shrug. "If the driver remembers anything about who opened the door, we might have a lead."

Kath nodded. "Alright. We head to the restaurant first thing in the morning."

Emma closed the notebook, exhaling. The city lights blurred past, washing everything in artificial color.

This was just the beginning.

---

The restaurant was sleek, modern, and expensive enough to make Kath roll her eyes the second they stepped inside.

"Rich people and their overpriced nonsense," she muttered under her breath.

Emma ignored her, walking straight to the front counter. The hostess barely glanced at them, her attention fixed on the sleek tablet in her hands.

"Welcome to Le Clair. Do you have a reservation?"

"We're not here to eat," Emma said smoothly, flashing her badge. "We're investigating an incident related to a recent delivery order. We need to speak with your staff."

The hostess's expression flickered-annoyance, hesitation, then forced politeness.

"One moment."

She turned and disappeared through a side door.

Kath leaned against the counter, scanning the restaurant. "Place is fancier than I thought."

Emma didn't respond. She was already running through the possibilities in her head. If the driver had seen the guest, this would be easy. If not, they'd have to start digging deeper into the victim's habits.

The door swung open again, and a middle-aged man in a crisp uniform stepped out. His name tag read Manager.

"Good morning," he said, voice smooth and practiced. "I understand you have some questions about a delivery?"

Emma nodded. "Yes. We need to speak with the driver who handled the order for apartment 6B last night."

The manager's expression didn't change. "I'm afraid our drivers don't disclose customer information-"

Kath cut in. "It's a murder investigation."

That shut him up.

The manager hesitated, glancing between them, then let out a small sigh. "Wait here."

He turned and disappeared into the back.

Kath smirked. "I love watching them squirm."

Emma didn't react. Her eyes were locked on a security camera mounted above the entrance. If the restaurant kept footage, it might show who picked up the order. Another angle to consider.

A few minutes later, the manager returned with a young man in a delivery uniform. He looked nervous, shifting on his feet as he approached.

"This is Joon," the manager said. "He handled the delivery in question."

Joon glanced between them, eyes darting to their badges. "Uh… am I in trouble?"

Emma kept her voice calm. "Not at all. We just need to know if you remember anything about that delivery."

Joon scratched the back of his neck. "Uh… yeah. I mean, it was just a normal drop-off. I knocked, the guy opened the door, took the food, paid, and that was it."

Emma studied him. "You're sure?"

Joon hesitated. "I mean… yeah?"

Kath folded her arms. "You hesitated. That means there's something."

Joon looked uncomfortable now. His fingers fidgeted at his side.

Emma leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "If you remember something, even the smallest detail, it could help us. Was anyone else there?"

Joon swallowed. "I- I don't know. I didn't see anyone else inside. But…"

Emma waited.

Joon bit his lip. "There was something weird about how he answered the door."

Emma's gaze sharpened. "Explain."

Joon shifted again, glancing at the manager, who sighed and waved a hand. "Go ahead," the manager said, already looking annoyed.

Joon nodded quickly, turning back to Emma. "Okay, so, normally when people answer the door, they just… open it, right? But this guy, he only opened it a little. Like, just enough to grab the food."

Emma's fingers tapped against her badge. "Like he was hiding something."

Joon nodded. "Yeah. And he looked… kinda nervous? He kept glancing behind him, like he was checking something."

Kath and Emma exchanged a look.

Emma looked at the delivery guy, "did you see anyone else with him?"

"I only saw him for a second, but... I wish I hadn't. His eyes-" Joon swallowed hard, his face pale. "I don't even know how to explain it. It was like looking at something that... shouldn't exist.""

Something was wrong, something was defently wrong with this case.

"He was tall and had a big body, not fat, just big." The delivery guy said.

That meant someone had been inside for sure.

Kath started the car. The city lights blurred as they sped off, heading toward their next lead. Somewhere in the darkness, answers waited, ones they might not like.

Miles away, in a dimly lit office, Nathaniel Dorsey turned a page.

The clock on the wall ticked in steady intervals, the only sound in the dimly lit office besides the soft shuffle of paper. Nathaniel Dorsey sat behind his desk, same man from the press conference, The weight of his position, the scrutiny of the press, and the pressure from those above him all simmered beneath his calm exterior.

Knock. Knock. Knock

"Come in"

Caroline Wu entered, her steps measured, a thick folder tucked beneath her arm. She closed the door behind her and approached his desk, setting the file down without a word.

Dorsey glanced up. "You have something?"

Caroline nodded. "It's about the Veritas Foundation and Elizabeth's Juvenile Center."

That got his attention. He straightened slightly. "Go on."

Her voice was even, measured. "After looking into the Veritas Foundation, we found nothing. Whoever was there is gone, and all the records were either erased or burned."

Dorsey exhaled through his nose. Not unexpected. He leaned back slightly, gaze shifting to the thick case files stacked beside him.

"This remind you of anything?"

Caroline hesitated. Then, "Elizabeth's Juvenile Center."

His fingers tapped once against the desk. Two facilities, both collapsed within days of each other. Both hidden in plain sight. Both using children.

"They were training them," he said. "Brainwashing them. Turning them into weapons."

Caroline nodded. Caroline flipped to another page. "Detectives Emma Lane and Alex Carter. They were investigating a routine homicide, an apartment murder. But that case led them to Veritas. Then, just days later, Veritas led them to the juvenile center."

"Did they find anything else in Veritas?"

Caroline hesitated before flipping a page on her clipboard. "They had a tape. Security footage of people fleeing. One of them was a girl… holding an infant."

Silence stretched between them. Dorsey's fingers tapped against the desk again, slower this time.

Something about this doesn't sit right.

Caroline shifted under his scrutiny. "What is it, sir?"

He exhaled. "A facility that size doesn't just get discovered by accident. Someone wanted it found."

She frowned. "You think it was a setup?"

"I think it's too convenient." He leaned forward, voice lowering slightly. "But that's not the real problem."

Caroline tilted her head. "Then what is?"

Dorsey studied her. Then, carefully, "Tell me again, where did they get their information?"

She hesitated. "Sir… what do you mean?"

"Emma Lane and Alex Carter. Everywhere they go, they uncover massive truths. How?" His gaze sharpened. "Are they just that good?"

Caroline straightened her clipboard. "Yes, sir. They're the best."

Dorsey held her stare. "And their source?"

She hesitated again. "…They said they were just following a boy."

The words landed heavy.

Dorsey's fingers stilled.

"Say that again."

"They said it all started because of a boy," she repeated. "They went to rescue him, found a dead woman in his apartment... his adopyive mother, and that led to everything else. They just followed where he went."

A slow, creeping cold settled in his gut.

"Did they notice anything odd about that boy?"

Caroline shook her head. "Yes, sir. They said he was deeply connected to the case."

Dorsey's jaw tensed. So, they weren't following leads. They were following him.

His voice was quieter now. "Anything else?"

Caroline nodded. "They also had a book."

His eyes flickered. "A book?"

"Yes, sir. It's in Emma Lane's hands right now."

A long pause. Dorsey's fingers flexed. "Where did they get it."

They said they found it in a dead man's house, who was also neighbor of the boy Cain and the missing boy James Emanuel.

Dorsey stopped tapping his finger midair.

"Also," she continued. "They said it led them to Veritas." Caroline swallowed. "And there was… an anonymous letter. It was found in Alex Carter's hand while he was in a coma."

A lingering cold filled the room.

Dorsey exhaled sharply. No.

Caroline frowned. "Sir?"

Something settled in his mind. A slow, creeping realization."They weren't following him." His voice barely broke above a whisper.

Caroline blinked. "??"

His next words were ice."They were being led by him or perhaps someone bigger."

A silence so heavy it felt suffocating.

Caroline's fingers gripped the clipboard.

Dorsey's gaze flickered.

Dorsey asked, "you know his name?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir." A brief pause. "His name is Cain Verhoven."

Dorsey exhaled. A slow nod. "Cain Verhoven." He let the name settle, rolling it over in his mind like a weight he couldn't put down.

His next question came slow. "And where is he now?"

Caroline hesitated. "…We don't know, sir."

Dorsey's eyes darkened. "Find out."

"Yes, sir."

She turned and exited the office, heels clicking against the floor.

Dorsey remained where he sat, staring at the faint glow of the desk lamp. A child. A pattern. A case that kept unfolding with each step forward.

And no.

They didn't solve it.

They were played.

Someone was pulling the strings.

His fingers curled into a fist. Then he muttered, irritation barley contained.

"The ones who think they walk in the light should remember, shadows are only cast when something stands in their way."