— When the Ghost First Appeared —
Bella stepped inside.
The door closed behind her with a sound that was softer than it should have been.
Her hair caught the dim light, pale and diffuse, like mist settling under a streetlamp. Her face was delicate, carefully composed, touched by a stillness that felt faintly out of place—subtle, but unmistakable once noticed.
"Jasper..."
Her voice was low and warm, trembling just slightly, like a candle flame disturbed by an unseen draft.
"Why are the lights so dim?"
Jasper didn't move. His hands remained where they were, fingers half-curled, as though his body had forgotten how to finish the gesture it had started. His breath caught halfway, lodged somewhere between disbelief and fear.
"B... Bella?" he whispered.
The name seemed to hang in the air longer than it should have.
Bella took a step forward.
Her movements were steady. Unhurried. Natural. The floor did not creak beneath her. Nothing resisted her weight.
Alive.
Then she noticed Selene and me.
Her posture stiffened at once, shoulders drawing inward. She stopped, half-retreating, as if the room itself had shifted beneath her feet.
"Jasper," she said, a trace of unease creeping into her voice, "why didn't you tell me you had company? I told you—if there are strangers, I won't come."
Selene's fingers dug into my arm.
Cold. Not just cool, but wet-cold—like something drawn up from deep water.
She drew a sharp breath.
"It's... really her."
Bella frowned, her gaze moving between us. Confusion surfaced first, then caution, settling carefully into place.
"What's going on?"
Jasper's face twisted, as if something inside him had snapped under pressure. When he finally spoke, his voice broke free in a shout that startled even him.
"Stop pretending!"
"You're not human. You're a ghost."
Bella froze.
The word struck her before its meaning did. Her expression emptied, then filled again—slowly, unevenly.
"...What did you say?"
I focused.
I didn't reach for tools. Didn't recite any formula. I simply loosened my awareness, letting it drift outward, unanchoring itself from the ordinary edges of the room.
She was a spirit—strong, anchored here, capable of appearing whole. Her form held together without distortion. Her presence was cohesive, sustained by something more than residual emotion.
But there was no hostility.
No corrosion.
No residue of malice or decay.
That absence—the still, unnatural neutrality—was what unsettled me most.
Bella's eyes shifted to me.
"You're..." she said slowly, the word catching before it could form.
"One of them, aren't you?"
Fear rose quickly in her gaze, sharp and instinctive. She edged back.
I raised a hand, slow and deliberate.
"Please don't go. I don't mean you harm."
She hesitated. Her attention flicked briefly to the door, then back to me. When she finally spoke again, her voice had dropped to almost nothing.
"Every one of you says that," she whispered.
"And every one of you wants to erase us."
"I'm not a hunter," I said quietly.
"If you're here for unfinished reasons, I may be able to help."
Jasper grabbed Selene's sleeve, his voice shaking.
"Is he insane? Help a ghost?"
"Be quiet," Selene hissed. "Not all spirits are hostile."
Bella studied me for a long moment.
I didn't look away.
"As long as you don't intend Jasper harm," I said, "I won't act against you."
She bit her lip.
"How can you be sure?"
"If you meant him harm," I replied softly, "he wouldn't still be standing here."
Something in her expression loosened—just a fraction.
"Come in," I said.
She glanced at Jasper.
I turned to him.
"You have to invite her."
Jasper swallowed hard.
"She's... already right there."
"You must say it."
His throat worked twice before he managed,
"Bella... you can come in."
As the words left him, the painting on the wall trembled—so faintly it could have been imagined.
Behind the red veil, the woman's gaze seemed to shift.
Watching.
Bella stepped forward.
"I'm sorry, Jasper," she said softly.
"I lied to you. I... am dead."
Jasper inhaled sharply, the sound raw and unguarded.
"Wait," I said. "Answer this first."
I looked at Bella.
"Why are you here?"
She lowered her eyes.
"I don't know. This place felt... warm," she said. "Like something was holding me together." She paused, searching her memory. "When I realized the bar belonged to Jasper, I tried talking to him. I didn't know he could see me."
"No one else could?" I asked.
She shook her head.
"When I leave this place, I fade."
"And when you were buried?" I pressed.
"Why didn't you pass on?"
She hesitated.
"Something stopped me. Not forcefully. It felt... gentle."
The word tightened my chest.
There was a strange pull in it. A quiet longing. An unseen tether drawing things closer rather than pushing them away.
She went on, her voice steadier now.
"I followed it. Like following light. On the way, a man attacked me. He used fire. Tried to bind me."
A hunter.
"When you saw me," I said, "you thought I was the same."
She nodded once.
"Fear makes us all cautious," I said.
---
— When a Ghost Falls in Love —
"Then why me?" Jasper asked at last.
His voice was hoarse, stripped of bravado, as though something essential had been scraped away.
"Why... stay with me?"
Bella looked at him for a long moment.
There was a faint sadness in her eyes—not heavy, not dramatic. Just present, like a shadow that had learned where to rest.
"I liked you," she said at last.
"I always did."
Selene nearly choked.
"You liked him? He's got nothing going for him!"
Jasper straightened instantly, offense cutting through his shock.
"Excuse me. I'm very popular."
"Sit down," Selene snapped.
Bella smiled faintly, almost apologetic.
"I liked him in high school," she said. "I just never said anything."
Jasper stared at her.
"...Since then?"
She nodded.
"You smiled," she said softly.
"Like the world wasn't closing in on you."
She hesitated, searching for the right words.
"That mattered to me."
Silence settled over the room, thin and fragile, like dust suspended in air.
Bella's gaze drifted toward the window, as if she were looking beyond the glass—past the street, past the night.
"I grew up with nothing but studies," she said.
"No friends. No distractions. Even small disobedience meant scoldings."
She drew a quiet breath.
"I thought university would mean freedom. But then my mother moved here to accompany me."
Her lips curved slightly. There was no humor in it.
"My life always felt... sealed," she continued.
"Like a well with no opening."
"Didn't you have your friend Luna?" Jasper asked before he could stop himself.
Bella sighed. A small, almost imperceptible shake of her head.
She didn't answer.
I spoke gently.
"Was it... suicide?"
She shook her head.
"No. My death wasn't intentional. It was an accident."
Her eyes lowered.
"What hurt wasn't dying," she added,
"it was realizing that, even before that moment, my life had already felt... empty."
Jasper swallowed.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"No," Bella replied.
"I'm not."
I let the silence remain. It carried more truth than any explanation.
Then I asked,
"Are there any other spirits here?"
She shook her head.
I turned to Jasper.
"Anything strange lately?"
He opened his mouth—then stopped.
I watched the realization spread across his face.
"You've been distracted," I said quietly.
"Haven't you?"
His hand went to his pocket.
"I'm calling the manager," he said.
"Now."