I don't know where ghosts go.
I just know they don't shut up.
If Andrea's dead, then someone should've told her she doesn't get to haunt me like this.
I see her everywhere.
Not the version the news loved — blood, fear, legend.
I see her sitting on the dojo floor, wrapping her knuckles too tight because she didn't know how to be gentle with herself yet.
I see her laughing once — actually laughing — when Miguel tripped over his own feet and tried to play it cool.
I see Robby looking at her like she was gravity.
People say she dragged us into darkness.
That's bullshit.
We were already there.
Andrea just refused to lie about it.
They say she chose violence in the end.
Maybe.
But I remember how hard she fought not to.
How she hesitated.
How she carried things that weren't hers.
How she stayed when leaving would've been easier.
If she's dead…
then she didn't lose.
She escaped something that never stops chasing you.
And if she's alive?
Then I hope she finally learned this one thing we never could:
You don't owe the world your destruction just because it expects it.
Sometimes I swear I hear her voice when I'm half-asleep.
Not sad.
Just calm.
Like she's saying, I made a choice.
And yeah — that sounds like goodbye.
But Andrea Johnson never liked clean endings.
So neither do I.