The girl got away after she caught him off-guard and darted into the labyrinth of alleyways.

  Casen didn’t go home like usual.

  Instead, he sat at the edge of the fountain in Ghost Square, legs drawn up, arms draped over his knees. The crowd had dispersed minutes after the dead vanished, leaving only the usual drifting petals, burnt incense, and empty offerings.

  He held the girl’s coat in his hands.

  She’d dropped it when she fled. Or maybe she’d left it on purpose.

  Either way, it was his now.

  He turned it over. Too big for her frame. Inside the collar was a tag: 412B-KNR. Government coding—Sector 4, housing block 12B, apartment KNR. Old coding system, phased out years ago. No one lived there now. That sector was a reclamation zone.

  Abandoned.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Just like her.

  Milo plopped down beside him, slurping on a melting iced drink with zero shame. “You’re still thinking about her, huh?”

  Casen didn’t answer.

  Milo glanced at the coat, then back at Casen. “You know the law. We don’t chase the dead. We don’t talk to the anomalies. We deliver and leave. That’s what Runners do.”

  “She wasn’t dead,” Casen muttered.

  “Did she vanish at one o’clock?”

  Casen shook his head.

  “Then she wasn’t part of the Event,” Milo said. “Which makes her worse.”

  Casen looked at him.

  “It means she’s real. And real people who break ghost rules tend to disappear real fast.”

  Casen turned back to the fountain. Water spilled silently over the stone hands of the memorial statue—an old man holding a child, both staring at the sky. The plaque below read: They return so we remember.

  Casen whispered, “But what if remembering is what breaks everything?”

  Milo sighed. “Philosophy hour is over. You got another delivery. Priority tier.”

  Casen blinked. “Already?”

  “Yup. Came through my band while you were chasing ghost girls. High pay. No sender ID. Destination… Sector 4.”

  Casen froze.

  Milo raised an eyebrow. “You going or not?”

  Casen stood. “Send me the details.”

  He stuffed the girl’s coat in his backpack and walked toward his bike. The streets ahead were gray and cracked. Buildings leaned like tired men. No cameras. No crowds. Just silence.

  Sector 4 waited.

  And somewhere in its ruins, a girl who shouldn’t exist might be waiting, too.