My door opened without permission.
Only one person in this house still did that.
"Andres," my mother said, knocking after she had already entered. "Have you received your first assignment?"
I didn't look up immediately. "Yeah."
"And?"
I folded the paper once. Twice.
"Riverdark."
Silence.
Not the comfortable kind.
The kind that sharpens the air.
When I finally looked at her, she was still standing at the door—but something in her expression had changed. Her eyes had gone distant, calculating… like she was solving a problem she didn't want the answer to.
"That's…" she stopped. "Unexpected."
"Not really."
She didn't reply.
Instead, she turned and walked out.
No explanation. No questions.
Just left.
Siver leaned against the wall, watching her go.
"Well," he said, "that was dramatic."
"Give it a minute."
It took exactly three.
She came back holding something.
A box.
Old. Wooden. Edges worn down like time had been chewing on it for years.
She held it out to me.
"This was left by your father.".
"You decide whether you want to open it," she said, voice steady again—but sharper now. Controlled. "Or keep it closed."
I took it slowly.
It felt heavier than it should.
"I just want you to be safe," she added. "Whatever happens."
Safe that felt really warm.
In Riverdark.
That was almost funny.
"I have your grandfather's number," she continued. "Call him before you reach the city."
I raised an eyebrow. "We're doing family reconnections now?"
"This isn't a joke, Andres."
Her tone cut clean.
"Riverdark isn't… peaceful these days."
I studied her face.
She wasn't guessing.
She knew something.
But before I could ask—
"How was the surgery today?"
The question slipped out casually.
Too casually but it did have an intent.
Siver turned his head slightly, interested.
My mother blinked once.
Then looked away.
"It failed," she said. "The patient died."
Of course he did.
I could see him.
Standing right behind her.
Male. Early thirties. Hospital gown. Pale.
Confused.
Dead.
He looked at me.
I looked at him.
And without moving my lips—
Stay quiet.
He did.
"Andres?" my mother said.
"Yeah?"
"Do you need anything?"
"No."
She sighed, shaking her head slightly. "You and your father… always talking to the air."
Siver snorted.
"Classic."
She didn't suspect anything.
She never did.
After she left, the room fell quiet again.
Except it didn't.
Because the dead don't do quiet.
The man stepped forward slowly.
"You can see me but how?."
Not a question.
A realization.
"Yeah," I said. "I can."
Siver folded his arms. "Here we go again."
The ghost looked shaken. Disoriented that was very normal sight for me.
"I… I died," he said.
"That tends to happen."
"I was in surgery i knew that something was wrong i could not wake up all i could see this lady doc talking to my family consoling them."
"I know."
His hands trembled slightly. "Something was wrong."
I leaned back against the table. "Start from the beginning."
He swallowed.
"My brother… he's a doctor too," he said. "He gave me medication before the surgery."
"What kind?"
"I—I don't remember the name exactly but… he said it would help circulation. Vasodilators."
I didn't react.
But Siver did.
"Oh, that's bad."
"Before the surgery?" I asked.
"Yes."
"And during?"
"They gave me something again through IV."
I nodded slowly.
"Same class?"
"I think so."
"And then?"
He looked down.
"I felt… lightheaded. My heart started racing. Then—nothing."
I exhaled softly.
"Vasodilators increase blood flow by widening blood vessels," I said. "Too much of it can cause a drop in blood pressure. Combine that with surgical stress…"
"…and you trigger cardiac instability," Siver finished.
"Or worse," I added.
The ghost looked at me.
"Are you saying—"
"I'm saying," I cut in, "you didn't die by accident."
His expression twisted.
"They won't even let my family do a postmortem," he said, voice shaking now. "They said it was a complication."
Of course they did.
"It wasn't i was sure."
Siver tilted his head, watching me.
"Well," he said, "looks like your last day in this city isn't going to be boring."
I grabbed my dark coat and.
"Let's go."
Hospital – One Hour Later
Hospitals always smell the same.
Clean.
Sterile smell of disinfectant.
And full of things people don't say out loud.
The family was already arguing at the front desk when I arrived it surely chaotic.
Good.
Saved me some time.
"I don't want a postmortem," a woman's voice snapped. "This doesn't make sense!"
"It was a surgical complication—"
"No."
I stepped in.
Three pairs of eyes turned toward me.
"Who are you?" someone asked.
"Andres," I said, pulling out my ID. "Forensic specialist."
Not officially assigned yet.
But it didn't matter.
Confidence does half the work.
"I need to examine the body," I said.
"The hospital has already made the—"
"I'm not asking."
Silence.
The ghost stood beside me now he wanted justice his eyes screamed to speak but he could not all he could do is watch.
Watching.
Waiting.
"Your brother was given vasodilators pre-op," I continued calmly. "And likely intraoperative administration as well."
The doctor behind the desk stiffened almost as if he wanted me to shut up but it was pretty obvious i would not.
his reaction was small.
But enough I caught him he way too nervous as I began to speak.
"Excessive vasodilation can induce hypotension and cardiac complications," I added. "Especially if dosage isn't controlled." i looked at him intentionally
"You can't just make accusations—"
yep, the rat has taken the bait just as I thought
"I don't need to," I said. "The autopsy will."
The family turned toward me i knew they had way too much trust on him.
Hope. Desperation. Fear.
"Please," the woman said. "If there's even a chance—"
"There is," I said.
Minutes later, I was signing papers.
Permission granted.
Resistance broken. Truth, pending.
As I turned to leave, Siver walked beside me, hands in his pockets.
"You know," he said, "for someone leaving tomorrow, you're getting pretty involved."
I didn't answer immediately.
My eyes drifted toward the corridor.
Toward the operating rooms.
Because something felt off.
Not just this case.
Not just this hospital.
Something bigger but I did not have much time.
"Yeah," I said, I always felt I had a greater responsibility to the dead I have always considered my abilities to be boon rather than a curse more than anything i am always left intrigued with the dead they give me more excitement with each case people thought of me as mad though that did not really mattered.
"This city really doesn't want to let me go peacefully." I sighed looks like we will have to investigate my moms hospital through and through once i get back from riverdark my gut tells me a lot of people are going down then uh..
Behind us—
The ghost stood still.
Watching.
And somewhere deeper in the hospital—
Something else moved.