GHOST

The police station smelled like stale coffee and desperation.

And Adrian hated every second of it. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, making everything have that weak yellow glow that made everyone look like they hadn't slept in days. Which, to be fair…none of them had.

Seraphina sat beside him, her knee bouncing nervously beneath the table. Stephanie was on her other side, arms crossed, glaring at anyone who dared look at them for too long. The three of them had been waiting for almost two hours.

"I need coffee," Stephanie announced, standing abruptly. "Before you talk Adrian, I want real coffee not that burnt garbage they're serving in the break room."

"Sit down," Adrian said through gritted teeth.

"I'll be right back."

"Stephanie—"

"I'm getting coffee!" She stormed off before anyone could stop her. Seraphina exhaled slowly. 

“She's going to start a fight with someone."

"Probably."

"Should we stop her?"

Adrian glanced at the doorway where Stephanie had disappeared. 

"No…let her. At least someone in this room is getting what they want." Seraphina almost smiled…almost.

The detective finally appeared. A tired-looking woman most likely in her forties with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense expression. DETECTIVE MARQUEZ. She'd been assigned to the case after Adrian made several very loud, very angry, very expensive phone calls.

"Mr. Vale. Ms. Cole." She sat down across from them, a thick file folder in her hands. "I have the results from the fingerprint analysis and the background check."

Adrian leaned forward. 

"And?"

Detective Marquez opened the file and her expression remained unreadable. 

"The fingerprints on the recording device and the rose don't match anyone in the system."

Adrian's jaw tightened. 

"That's impossible."

“It isn't.”

“Pardon me,” he laughed, a hand covering his eyes. “Is he a ghost?”

"It's not impossible, Mr. Vale. It just means he's never been arrested, never been fingerprinted…so he's kind of a ghost."

"Then what about the background check? What did you find on Marcus Webb?"

The detective hesitated, just for a second but Adrian noticed.

"Ms. Cole," she said, turning to Seraphina. "I need you to prepare yourself for what I'm about to tell you."

Seraphina's face went pale. 

"What? What is it?"

Detective Marquez pulled a photograph from the file and slid it across the table. It was a man in his mid-thirties. Average build, average face…the kind of face you'd pass on the street and forget immediately.

"This is the real Marcus Webb," the detective said. Adrian stared at the photograph. 

“That's not him…I almost even ruled Marcus out."

"I'm glad you didn't." Detective Marquez's voice was grim. "The man who's been stalking you, Ms. Cole and probably the man who's been working at Vale Corporation for the past five years…he's not Marcus Webb."

Seraphina's breath caught. 

“Then who is he?"

"We don't know. The real Marcus Webb died in a car accident five years ago. His body was identified, his family was notified, and he was buried." She paused. "But someone else has been using his identity ever since."

The room spun slightly and Seraphina gripped the edge of the table. 

“How is that possible? How can someone just—"

"Identity theft is easier than you think," Detective Marquez said. "Especially when the person whose identity you're stealing doesn't have any close family left. The real Marcus Webb was an only child. His parents died years ago. No wife, no children and no one to notice that he'd been replaced."

Adrian's fists clenched beneath the table. 

“So for five years, this man has been walking around with someone else's name. Someone else's face, someone else's life."

"Correct."

"And no one noticed?!"

"Mr. Vale, with all due respect—" Detective Marquez's voice was calm but firm. "The real Marcus Webb was unremarkable. He worked at a mid-level accounting firm, he had no social media presence, and he kept to himself. When someone else took over his identity, they didn't change anything. They just... kept living his life. Quietly and invisibly."

Seraphina shook her head slowly. 

“I don't understand. Why would someone do this? Why would they spend years pretending to be someone else just to—"

"To get close to you. I thought we understood that by now." Adrian's voice was hollow. 

“He needed a clean identity. A way to work at Vale Corporation without anyone questioning who he was. So he found someone forgettable. Someone no one would miss…and simply became him."

Stephanie returned at that moment, holding three cups of coffee. She took one look at their faces and stopped dead.

"What happened?"

Seraphina couldn't speak. She just pointed at the photograph on the table.

Stephanie set the coffee down and picked up the photo. "Who's this?"

"The real Marcus Webb," Adrian said flatly. Stephanie frowned. 

"The real? Is that h—"

"I know."

"So the guy who's been stalking Sera is—"

"A ghost," Seraphina whispered. "He's a ghost." 

The room fell silent. Detective Marquez cleared her throat.

"And there's more."

Adrian looked up sharply. 

"What else?"

"We traced the imposter's digital footprint. His application to Vale Corporation listed a high school as his alma mater. The same high school that Ms. Cole attended." 

She slid another document across the table. "He chose that school specifically. Maybe he has always been planning to get close to you."

Seraphina stared at the document and her hands trembled.

"He's been watching me since high school," she whispered. "Since before I even met Adrian. So he's been waiting all this time."

"Ms. Cole—" Detective Marquez began.

"Sixteen years." Seraphina's voice cracked. "He's been watching me for sixteen years and I never knew. I never even—" She stopped, pressing a hand to her mouth.

Adrian reached for her, but she flinched away.

"I need air," she said, standing abruptly. "I need—"

She walked toward the exit, her steps unsteady and Stephanie immediately followed leaving the coffee behind.

Adrian started to get up, but Detective Marquez stopped him.

"Mr. Vale. There's something else you need to see."He paused. 

"What is it?"

The detective pulled a photograph from the file. It was old, slightly faded, taken at a school fair. A young girl was laughing in the foreground, Seraphina, maybe ten years old and in the background, barely visible, a boy was watching her from across the field.

"The imposter's real identity," Detective Marquez said. "We don't know who he is but we found this in the real Marcus Webb's apartment. Hidden behind a false panel in the wall, along with dozens of others."

Adrian took the photograph. His hands were steady, but his heart was pounding.

"How long?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "How long has he been following her?"

Detective Marquez met his eyes. 

“We found photographs dating back twenty years…he's possibly been documenting her entire life. Every school event, every vacation, every relationship." She paused. "Every moment of her marriage."

Adrian's blood ran cold.

"He has photographs of her wedding," the detective continued. "Photographs of the honeymoon, photographs of her inside your home." She paused again. "Photographs of her sleeping in your bed and the day after the wedding."

Adrian couldn't breathe.

"He's been watching you both," Detective Marquez said quietly. "From the very beginning."