The house didn't feel the same after the truck left.
Even though the street outside was quiet again, the sense of being watched hadn't fully disappeared. It lingered in the air like the aftertaste of something bitter.
Arman locked the front door.
Not that it would stop anything supernatural.
But it made him feel better.
Behind him, Samantha stood near the living room window again, though she kept glancing toward the street now. Like she expected the truck to come back.
"You're thinking too much," Arman said.
She looked over her shoulder.
"You're the one who said it was strange."
"It is strange."
"Then why are you calm?"
He shrugged and walked toward the couch.
"I'm choosing to be calm."
"That doesn't answer the question."
"It does for me."
Samantha almost smiled.
But the moment faded quickly.
Because the more she thought about the man outside, the more something deep in her chest felt unsettled.
Like a memory scratching at the back of her mind.
Arman sat down and opened his laptop again.
"What are you doing now?" she asked.
"More ghost homework."
"That sounds reassuring."
"It's either that or panic."
She walked over and sat across from him on the couch.
Or at least pretended to sit.
Her body hovered slightly above the cushion the way it always did.
Arman began scrolling through articles again.
Forums.
Stories.
Accounts from people who claimed they had seen spirits.
Most of it sounded ridiculous.
Until one post caught his attention.
His fingers stopped moving on the trackpad.
"What?" Samantha asked.
He leaned closer to the screen.
"This one is weird."
She leaned toward him slightly.
"What does it say?"
Arman read quietly for a moment.
Then his expression slowly changed.
"Okay… that's not comforting."
"What?"
He looked up at her.
"It says that when ghosts start remembering the moment of their death…"
Samantha felt something tighten inside her.
"What happens?"
Arman hesitated.
"Things start changing."
"How?"
He turned the laptop slightly toward her.
"According to this guy, spirits begin acting differently before they remember who killed them."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Differently how?"
He read the sentence again.
"Spirits often grow unstable when the memory of their death returns. Their emotions intensify. Their presence strengthens."
Samantha frowned.
"That doesn't sound so bad."
Arman kept reading.
Then he stopped again.
"What?"
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Well…"
"What?"
"Apparently ghosts become more… visible."
She blinked.
"Visible?"
"To people."
Samantha's expression stiffened.
"You mean…"
"Yeah."
"More people might start seeing you."
Silence filled the room.
She slowly turned toward the window.
The dock worker.
The way he had stared at her.
"You think that's what happened?" she asked quietly.
"Maybe."
Samantha looked down at her hands.
They were still faint.
Still transparent.
But for a brief second....
Something flickered.
Arman noticed it immediately.
"Did you see that?"
"See what?"
"Your hand."
She lifted it slightly.
"What about it?"
"It looked… stronger."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know."
He turned back to the laptop.
"This guy says ghosts get stronger when they're close to remembering the moment they died."
Samantha's stomach twisted.
"I don't want to remember that."
Arman closed the laptop slowly.
"I know."
She looked at him.
"But you want me to."
"No," he said gently.
"I want you to know the truth."
Her voice dropped slightly.
"What if the truth is worse than not knowing?"
Arman leaned back against the couch.
"Then we face it together."
The words hung quietly between them.
Samantha stared at him.
"You say things like that very easily."
"That's because I mean them."
She looked down again.
"Ghosts get stronger when they remember."
"That's what the article says."
"And more people can see them."
"Apparently."
Samantha slowly looked toward the window again.
"What if the wrong person sees me?"
Arman followed her gaze.
"You mean the killer."
She nodded.
"Yes."
The idea sent a cold chill through the room.
Because if the killer could see her....
Then they would know she was still here.
Watching.
Remembering.
Arman stood and walked toward her.
"You're not alone in this," he said quietly.
Samantha didn't answer.
But she moved closer to him again.
Instinctively.
Almost without thinking.
The space between them grew small.
For a moment they just stood there.
The quiet hum of the house around them.
The faint streetlights outside.
"You know what's strange?" Samantha said softly.
"What?"
"I feel more alive around you."
Arman's chest tightened slightly.
"That's ironic."
She smiled faintly.
"Yes."
He hesitated for a second.
Then said something that surprised even himself.
"Maybe that's why you're here."
Her eyes lifted to meet his.
"And maybe," he continued quietly,
"that connection at the traffic light wasn't the last one you made."
Samantha looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
Arman smiled faintly.
"Maybe it was the first."
The room went quiet again.
But this time.....
The silence felt warmer.
Stronger.
Outside, the street looked empty.
But far down the road, a pickup truck had stopped again.
And inside it...
The dock worker watched the house.
Waiting.
Because something about that ghost girl…
Didn't feel like an accident.