Healing 006 was just a blip in Bella's routine. Sure, using his intel network to dig up Miss Pika's background was nice, but whether she was "Miss Pika" or "Miss Pika-Shaw" didn't change anything for Bella personally.
Who betrayed her? How did she really die? Still no answers.
And even if they found out—so what? Dead was dead. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. In life she served America. In death... did that even matter anymore?
Life moved on. School was still school. Ghosts were still ghosts.
Bella combined her psychic power with the ghost's negative energy to seal away 006's memories from those two days.
The female ghost's identity had to stay secret. And 006 had gotten way too good a look at how Bella dodged bullets. All of it—locked away.
To make the seal airtight, Bella added a verbal trigger. Considering local habits, she picked:
"Drink more hot water."
In theory, saying that phrase in any language could partially crack the seal. But Americans? They drank everything ice-cold, year-round. Bella figured she was safe.
Password plus heavy negative-energy seal? 006 had zero chance of remembering those two days. Not even the world's best hypnotist could break through.
Earth was a big place. Supernatural encounters were rare. And running into a ghost stronger than Ms. Shaw?
Shaw had been a top-tier agent. Betrayed. Murdered. Burning with enough hatred to refuse death itself. That kind of resentment was what created spirits. Normal people couldn't compare—didn't have the mental fortitude, the willpower, the life experience. Most couldn't even become ghosts at all, let alone one stronger than Shaw.
Bella figured the odds of 006 stumbling into something like that were basically zero.
Even bad luck had limits.
...Right?
The pension case brought Bella a wave of public attention and fame.
End of June, Victoria Hand took her to Stanford to meet some History Department professors.
Top universities loved hosting celebrities. Bella's grades were solid, so Stanford rolled out the red carpet. Late August, she'd officially start at Palo Alto in the Bay Area.
After saying goodbye to Victoria, Bella drove north from California, all the way back to the little town of Forks in Washington State.
The day after getting home, she gathered the leftover ritual materials and set up another spirit communion. Lit the fire basin. Reached out to her ancestors.
She'd beaten Death. Felt right to at least report back. Useful or not, it closed the loop on that earlier cry for help. Basic respect.
The second communion was way harder than the first. She had a feeling that if she kept using the Quileute method, next time her odds would be close to zero.
But the moment she slipped into the spirit sea, everything felt different.
As a mind mage, this place was home. If comfort in the physical world was a 1, the spirit sea was a 10.
She almost hummed out loud. Her speed doubled compared to last time.
Countless spirits radiated goodwill. She answered with clear, genuine thanks.
No sign of Will Turner or Elizabeth Swann—who knew what those two were up to—but she did find Hector Barbossa and his daughter, Carina.
Thought exchange in the spirit sea was instant. Two mental pulses, and they fully understood how Bella had taken down Death.
"Hmph. That little piece of trash gave you this much trouble? Each generation really is worse than the last!"
Bella's mental mastery had improved. Barbossa's spirit looked far clearer now.
Heavy coat. Black tricorn hat. He looked exactly as he had near the end—face carved with wrinkles, scraggly beard, knife scars on his neck and arms, rough nails, wooden leg.
Carina dressed far more elegantly. Baroque-style whalebone dress. Slender neck. Perfect posture.
"Ignore him. That's just how he is. You could defeat Zeus himself and he still wouldn't say 'good job.'"
Carina smiled, smoothing things over.
Bella wasn't bothered. She had used a trick to beat Death, after all.
"It's fine. I'm just glad you two are getting along now. I only came to check in. If there's nothing else, I'll head back."
"Wait."
Carina stopped her.
She turned, exchanged something silent with Barbossa, then faced Bella again.
"How is your relationship with your father?"
Her relationship with Charlie?
Bella thought about it.
"Pretty good. My parents are divorced—you had marriage back then, right? Actually, another girl and I are trying to set Charlie up with someone new."
Nothing secret about it. She gave them the short version of the plan she and Natasha had cooked up.
Not a lie, either. Charlie and Natasha's mom, Samantha, definitely had something going on. Secret calls. Texts. They thought they were being sneaky, but Bella and Natasha had caught on ages ago.
"Oh? Now that's interesting! Little girl, I think I like you!"
Men. Always focused on different things. Barbossa's whole demeanor shifted. But with Carina right there, he wisely dropped the subject.
Carina looked half-exasperated. In her era, life was short. Plenty of kids lost their parents young. She'd found love herself, only for her father to die right after... though that death hadn't been natural.
She gathered her thoughts.
"We do not belong to your world. We died in our own times. The only reason we can meet like this is the spirit sea's connections."
Time and space stuff. A bit over Bella's head. She stayed quiet, waiting.
Carina gripped her father's hand tight.
"We had just found each other... and then he was gone again. I never got even one day of real fatherly love."
Barbossa's voice turned hard.
"That damned witch Calypso. Has to be her curse!"
The venom in his voice when he mentioned the sea goddess made Bella flinch. Wait—was she supposed to fight a goddess now? With what? Her sparkling personality?
Carina finally got to the point.
"My spirit is here. My memories, my love, my knowledge—all here. But I am not truly Carina Barbossa. The mortal Carina died long ago. She passed in Havana, surrounded by her children and grandchildren."