The Ghost in the city

Chapter 10: The Ghost in the City

By sunrise, Collins had come through. Elias stood in front of a worn-down apartment complex on the outskirts of the city, the kind of place where people lived when they didn't want to be found.

According to Collins, Clara Monroe had rented an apartment here under a fake name, paying in cash every month. No records, no paper trail. Just whispers of a woman who once walked in Voss's shadow.

Elias stepped inside, his boots echoing against the cracked tile floor. The hallway smelled of mildew and stale smoke, the flickering lights barely illuminating the numbers on the doors. He found hers—2B.

He knocked. No answer.

He knocked again, firmer this time. Still nothing.

Reaching into his coat, Elias pulled out a small toolset, working the lock with practiced ease. A click, and the door swung open.

The apartment was small, sparsely furnished. A single chair, a coffee table stacked with newspapers, an empty ashtray. The air was thick with the scent of perfume, faint but still present.

Someone had been here recently.

He took a careful step inside, scanning the space. A bulletin board on the far wall caught his attention, littered with notes, photos, and what looked like surveillance shots. Some of them were of Nathaniel Voss. Others… were of him.

Elias's stomach tightened. Clara Monroe hadn't just been hiding. She'd been watching.

A soft creak behind him. He turned sharply, reaching for his gun—

Only to find himself staring down the barrel of another.

A woman stood in the doorway, her grip steady, her dark eyes unreadable.

"Detective Mercer," she said, voice like steel. "You shouldn't have come here."

Elias smirked. "Funny. I was about to say the same thing to you."

Clara Monroe had just stepped out of the shadows. And the game had changed once again.