Chapter 8 – Ghosts and Granola Bars

Lila Monroe had a rule: Never scream in a corporate elevator.

It was a simple rule. Logical. Reasonable. Professional. That is, until everything went sideways.

The moment the polished elevator doors groaned shut, Lila felt the familiar hum of fluorescent lights overhead—a comforting reminder of another uneventful corporate day. The air smelled faintly of lemon-scented cleaner and old metal. Somewhere above, a cable groaned softly, the sound echoing down like a warning.

But as the elevator began its ascent, fate decided to rewrite the rules. The lights flickered. The cabin, normally filled with the dull thrum of machinery, seemed to hush.

In the corner of the cramped space, a ghost materialized with the nonchalance of someone who'd been waiting in a dark closet for far too long."The specter wore a faded green janitor's uniform, draped over an ethereal frame." He sighed deeply, as if exasperated by centuries of boredom, and then fixed Lila with a gruff gaze.

"You're not supposed to see us," the ghost grumbled. "That's not how it works."

Lila blinked. "How what works?"

The ghost gave her a long, tired look, like she was a child asking why the sky was blue.

"The veil. The order. The rules."

Then he muttered something under his breath—low, frustrated, and definitely not in English.

Her fingers tightened around the folder clutched in her arms—a regular, non-haunted folder this time. The other one—the one that used to hum with ghostly tension—now sat quietly in the storage room, just paper again, its unfinished business finally at rest.

"Okay, rude," she muttered. "But thanks for the advice."

The ghost squinted, his eyes narrowing as though he detected an unreadable future in Lila's expression. "You smell like Everlane files."

She stepped back, nearly colliding with the button panel. "Listen, I don't know what curse I tripped over this week, but I'm on my way to a meeting, and I don't have time for cryptic janitorial hauntings."

The elevator jolted as if sharing her dismay—lights flickered, and the hum of the machinery lowered to a disconcerting murmur. Then, as if guided by an unseen hand, a soft yet unmistakable whisper filled the space.

"Don't forget me…"

The words, barely above a murmur, sent icy shivers down Lila's spine. For a moment, the elevator felt suspended in time—the only sound was that of her rapid heartbeat in her ears. Then, as abruptly as it began, the ding of the elevator broke the spell. The doors slid open, and Lila braced herself for more surprises.

Standing at the threshold was someone entirely unexpected: a tall, cheerful young man holding a box of donuts, like a tangible peace offering from a world very much alive. His smile was infectious—a bright contrast to the eerie tension lingering in the elevator.

"Oh," he greeted with a dimpled grin. "Hi. You must be Lila. I'm Theo. Temporarily crashing this department from IT." He extended the box of donuts in a manner that suggested he believed sugar could solve even the spookiest of dilemmas.

"Bribery via sugar. Works 86% of the time."

Lila blinked rapidly—twice, as if to ensure she wasn't still hallucinating. "Temporary?"

"Legal assigned me to help with the audit cleanup," he said, glancing up at the ceiling. "Also, this elevator's haunted. That's fun."

Wait. He noticed?

Before she could probe further, the temperature dropped. A sudden chill, as if an icy breeze had swept through the hallway, heralded another arrival.

There, emerging from the long corridor like a figure carved from shadow and perpetual annoyance, was Victor. His presence was impossible to ignore: rigid, impeccably dressed, and every inch the corporate overlord with an unreadable expression. Victor did not so much as glance at the box of donuts or Theo's cheerful countenance; instead, all his focus was on Lila.

"He's temporary," Victor said flatly. "Like most problems."

Lila forced a smile. "Well, this problem at least brought carbs."

Victor's eyes flicked dismissively from the box to Theo. "You're late."

Theo shrugged, still grinning. "Better than cursed."

Victor's jaw twitched. "That's not an excuse I accept."

Lila clapped her hands once, way too loud. "Okay! I have a meeting in five minutes with the HR and zero mental bandwidth for a testosterone standoff. Good talk, gentlemen."

She stormed off toward her desk. Theo followed with a grin. Victor lingered like a thundercloud, deciding whether to strike.

Lila was not fine.

The janitor ghost hadn't reappeared, but his words echoed worse than a Monday morning email from HR. Don't forget me. She kept glancing through the glass wall of Victor's office. 

A gentle tap broke her spiral.

Theo again. Holding a granola bar.

"Healthy bribery," he said.

She sighed. "You're very committed to bribery."

He gave a lazy smile. "And you talk to walls when you think no one's watching."

Her breath caught. "What?"

He leaned in, eyes darkening with something deeper than amusement—something real. "I saw it. In the elevator. That ghost. The janitor. In uniform."

Lila froze. For a moment, she wasn't sure she'd heard him right. Her pulse thudded in her ears.

"You… saw him?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Theo nodded slowly, his expression strangely calm—but his hands were clenched tight around the box of donuts.

"Yeah," he said softly. "He looked scary. Then he was gone."

Lila's thoughts scattered like a stack of loose papers caught in a sudden gust. Her stomach twisted.

"You… you can see them?" she managed, each word trembling with disbelief.

He gave a small, sheepish nod. "I've seen ghosts my whole life," he admitted. "But I usually pretend I don't. It's easier that way."

"Some of them just watch. Others... they want things. Answers. Attention. I figured if I ignored them, they'd go away. Sometimes they do. Sometimes they don't."

His voice was calm, but there was something wary behind it—like someone who'd seen more than he ever wanted to admit.

The worst was a nurse who followed me around during high school exams. She kept whispering drug names at me."

He gave a half-smile. "I passed biology. Barely."

A stunned silence fell between them. Lila stared at him, blinking like she'd been dropped into an entirely different conversation—an entirely different reality.

It wasn't just her. She wasn't the only one.

For the first time since the haunting began, she wasn't alone.

Her breath hitched. She let out a short laugh—thin, disbelieving, halfway to tears.

"You're kidding," she whispered. "Tell me you're kidding."

"I wish I was," he said. "But you looked like you knew what it was too. In the elevator. So... I figured."

Their eyes met.

And just like that, the floor seemed to tilt beneath her—not from fear, but from the strange, quiet gravity of finally being seen.

Then the hallway lights flickered. A faint laugh—a low, echoing sound that wasn't entirely human—drifted in from somewhere unseen, sending a ripple of tension through the room.

Theo's body tensed. "You heard that too?"

Lila nodded slowly, her eyes searching the ordinary corridors for hints of the extraordinary.

Before either could speak further, the unmistakable sound of Victor's footsteps echoed down the hall. He emerged from his office with the cold precision of a clock striking the hour.

"Miss Monroe," he said crisply, his tone cutting through the soft murmurs of the office. "Meeting. Now."

Lila snapped to attention, grabbed her notebook, and dashed from her desk with the urgency of someone late for an important engagement. As she hurried past, she muttered under her breath, "Right. Notes. Files. Chair that squeaks like the damned."

Victor's eyes flicked between her and Theo. One second too long. Then he turned sharply and walked away.

Lila grabbed her things and followed.

As she passed Theo, he leaned in and whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

"Take Care."