It was that day when I realized how lucky I actually am.
I had always thought of myself as unlucky.
Being able to see ghosts was not exactly a blessing.
My parents were divorced, I lived alone most of the time, and I had never really fit in anywhere. I was a loner by habit, not by choice.
Life felt like it had given me a strange ability and then forgotten to give me anything else to balance it out.
But standing there that day, walking beside a woman I had met only minutes ago, I couldn't help but think otherwise.
'Holy cow!'
What were the chances that the woman who suddenly stopped me on the road to ask if I was okay would not only take me exactly where I wanted to go, but would also turn out to be the owner of that place?
It felt unreal.
As we walked, she talked casually.
She told me about the café, about how the building had been renovated years ago. According to her, the ground floor was turned into a café after the renovation, and the first floor was converted into living space.
"My family lives upstairs," she said as we walked. "It's convenient. Work downstairs, home upstairs. Saves time and energy."
I nodded along, listening carefully.
When we finally reached the café, I stopped walking for a moment.
It took my brain a few seconds to properly process what I was seeing.
First of all, the railing.
The railing on the first-floor balcony looked very, very similar to the one in the girl's post.
The shape, the pattern, even the spacing between the bars felt familiar.
Of course, I knew this alone didn't confirm anything. Railings like that could exist in many places. Someone's house. Another café. Any random building.
The café itself was a two-story building, clean and well-maintained.
The ground floor had large glass windows that let sunlight pour inside. Decorative plants were placed near the entrance and along the windows, some hanging, some resting quietly in clay pots.
Inside, I could see people sitting around wooden tables, laughing softly, talking, drinking coffee. The smell of coffee and sweets floated out into the street, warm and comforting.
The first floor looked carefully designed too. There was a balcony with the railing I recognized, properly closed off and safe.
Curtains moved gently behind the glass doors, and a few plants were placed along the edge, giving it a lived-in feeling rather than something decorative for show.
It looked peaceful.
What truly confirmed my suspicion, however, had nothing to do with the structure.
It ware the symbols.
Weird symbols floated in the air, forming a large circular ring around the entire building.
They weren't bright or glowing. Their color was very light, almost blending into the surroundings. If I weren't looking carefully, I might had missed them entirely.
I couldn't read them. The language was unfamiliar, nothing I had ever seen before.
The symbols moved slowly, calmly, maintaining a perfect circular formation that wrapped around the café and the living space above it.
They weren't carved into the walls or drawn anywhere physically.
They were just there.
Floating.
And no one around seemed to notice.
People walked in and out of the café, chatting, laughing, checking their phones. No one looked up. No one stared. No one reacted.
Of course they didn't.
I was probably the only one who could see them.
'Are these the incantations they talk about in supernatural movies?'
It made sense.
That must have been the reason.
Not a single ghost was inside the building.
Not even one.
Dumbo ghosts were everywhere outside. They wandered around the street, clung to people passing by, drifted through walls and signs without purpose.
But none of them went near the café.
They avoided it almost instinctively.
Even when a Dumbo ghost was latched onto someone entering the café, it would hurriedly detach itself and fly away the moment the person crossed the boundary.
It was like watching animals flee from fire.
I had never seen ghosts act like that before.
'They can feel fear.'
I had always thought that Dumbo ghost had zero senses and awerness and the only thing they seek was energy so that they won't vanish.
This was new for me.
"What are you thinking about?" the woman suddenly called out, breaking my thoughts. "I'm not going to kidnap you, you know. See that café there? It's mine. We're almost there."
I blinked and looked at her.
"Oh. Yeah. I'm coming," I said quickly, smiling a little too stiffly.
She laughed lightly and kept walking.
On the way, she had introduced herself and asked me to call her by her name.
"Olivia," she had said. "Just Olivia is fine."
The café was very close to the building, so it didn't take long to reach the entrance. As soon as we stepped inside, a bell rang softly above the door.
"Welcome back, boss."
"Hey, boss lady."
Two workers stood behind the counter, smiling brightly at her.
"You two," Olivia said, shaking her head with a small smile. "I've told you before. Call me Olivia."
"But you are our boss," one of them replied, laughing.
She sighed like she had given up on correcting them a long time ago.
I stood there quietly, scanning the café.
The girl from the photo wasn't there.
I didn't know her exact age. It was only a guess by looking at her photo and I had forgotten to check when it was posted.
But surely she would have aged a lot by now.
Still, no one here looked even remotely like her.
At first, I had guessed Olivia might be her relative.
The photo was taken on the first floor, where the family lived.
It felt logical.
But now that I was seeing Olivia up close, there were no common features.
No similar eyes. No similar face shape. Nothing.
'Don't relatives usually look a little similar?'
That only made me more confused.
What was I supposed to do now?
I couldn't just show Olivia the photo and ask her about the girl.
I had already told her I was looking for my relatives.
That story wouldn't match.
I would be caught immediately.
'Or should I just do it anyway?'
Before I could decide, Olivia turned to me.
"Ian, you can sit at the empty table there," she said, pointing toward a corner. "I'll bring some refreshments and a cup of coffee. Or do you prefer a glass of milk?"
She giggled softly after saying that.
Was that a joke?
Did I really look that young to her?
"I'll take coffee," I said, matching her smile awkwardly. "Thank you."
I went and sat down, looking around as I waited.
The interior was just as good as the exterior.
Wooden furniture, soft lighting, gentle music playing in the background. It felt cozy. Safe.
And because there were no ghosts, it felt amazing.
'I wish I could live here.'
The café felt like the exact opposite of my house.
My house was silent and empty. This place was warm and full of life.
"I'm quite proud of how the decorations turned out," Olivia said as she returned with the coffee and a small plate of cake. "You were looking around like an inspector."
"It really looks beautiful," I said honestly, helping her set the table. "It has a very warm feeling."
"That was the goal," she replied, smiling.
I took a sip of the coffee.
It tasted good. Comforting.
After I had taken a few bites of the cake, Olivia sat down across from me.
"So," she said casually, "what are you going to do now? I don't think you'll find your relatives here."
Her words weren't harsh. Just honest.
I froze slightly.
This was it.
I had to decide.
Should I make up another story and slowly try to coax information out of her?
Or should I come clean and ask for her help?