The police van hummed along the road as the city stretched out around them. Neon signs flickered on buildings, people rushed across intersections, and traffic horns filled the air. Inside the van, though, it was quiet, too quiet.
Detective Nora Kane sat stiff in the passenger seat, staring out of the window. She tried to focus on the rhythm of the moving cars and the blur of pedestrians. But in her head, she could still hear her father's voice from the apartment. Does it sound right to you, Nora?
Her chest tightened. She clenched her jaw and tried to push the thought away.
Detective Marcus Hall, behind the wheel, glanced at her. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. For a long while, he said nothing. But his eyes kept flicking toward her, as though debating whether to speak.
Finally, he broke the silence.
"You see ghosts, don't you?"
Nora froze. Her heart skipped. She turned her head sharply toward him, eyes wide. "What did you just say?"
Marcus smirked faintly but didn't take his eyes off the road. "I asked if you see ghosts."
Her mouth went dry. "Why would you say something like that?"
Marcus gave a small shrug. "Because every time we hit a crime scene, you start mumbling. Like you're talking to someone. Today you were standing by the window, whispering. I thought you were losing it. But now I'm starting to wonder if maybe you're seeing things I don't."
Nora's hands curled into fists on her lap. She forced a laugh, though it came out shaky. "That's ridiculous. I don't see ghosts."
Marcus arched a brow. "Then who were you talking to in there? You kept saying things under your breath. You looked like you were listening to somebody."
She inhaled slowly, trying to calm herself. "I wasn't talking to anyone. It's just… my way of thinking out loud. That's all."
Marcus didn't look convinced. His voice lowered, more serious now. "You sure? Because if you start losing it in the middle of a case, it won't just be your problem. It'll be mine too."
Nora's pulse raced as she looked down at her hands, trying to steady them. She couldn't tell him the truth, not about what she saw and also not about her father.
So she lied.
"When I was little," she began softly, "my dad was a detective. He would come home with stories about the cases he worked on. I used to sit with him, and we would talk about every detail. He told me to always pay attention, to note down anything that looked off and sometimes he would even let me write things in his notebook."
Marcus stayed silent, listening.
"So now," Nora continued, her voice a little steadier, "when I'm at a scene, I talk to myself the way I used to talk to him. It's like… making my own diary without writing it down. That's all it is."
Marcus finally turned his head, studying her face. His eyes lingered on her for a moment before he looked back at the road.
"That's what you were doing in there?" he asked.
"Yes." She nodded quickly. "That's all I was doing."
The van rattled over a bump, shaking slightly. Nora gripped her seatbelt.
Marcus sighed, leaning back in his seat. "Alright. If you say so. Just don't freak me out like that again. I don't want to look over and see my partner talking to thin air."
Nora forced a small smile. "Understood."
The silence stretched again. But now it was heavier. Nora leaned her head against the window, staring at the passing streetlights. She wanted to believe what she told Marcus, she wanted to believe she was just talking to herself but deep down, she knew it wasn't true.
Her father's voice was real to her. Too real.
Marcus reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of gum. He offered her one. "Long day. You need to relax."
She took it, unwrapped it slowly, and popped it into her mouth. The mint stung her tongue, grounding her back in reality.
Marcus cleared his throat. "You know… my old partner used to do something similar. He would walk through a crime scene, mumbling to himself. I thought he was crazy too but he solved cases faster than anyone. Maybe you're not so different."
Nora looked at him, surprised. "Really?"
"Really." Marcus smirked faintly. "The difference is, he actually wrote things down. Maybe you should start doing that too. Save me the trouble of guessing who the hell you're talking to."
Nora chuckled lightly, though her chest still felt tight. "Maybe I will."
The van slowed as they approached a red light. For a moment, the engine's hum was the only sound between them. Nora tapped her fingers against her knee. Marcus drummed his thumb against the steering wheel.
Then Marcus spoke again, quieter this time. "You miss him, don't you? Your dad."
Nora swallowed hard. Her throat burned. She kept her eyes on the streetlight outside. "Every day."
Marcus nodded. He didn't push further.
The light turned green. The van rolled forward, carrying them deeper into the city night.
But in the back of Nora's mind, her father's voice whispered again, almost mocking: Does it sound right to you, Nora?
She clenched her jaw, forcing herself not to answer out loud.
Not in front of Marcus.