Midnight settled softly over Ethereal Shore Resort.
The sea breathed against the coast, lamps shimmered on the glass lobby, and everything felt hushed like the world had pressed pause.
For Serene Caelis, this was her favorite time.
No guests rushing for taxis, no staff chatter, just quiet. She was on a simple night shift, checking rooms, confirming requests, finishing reports.
"Tablet, flashlight, optimism," she murmured. "Let's make it through without ghosts."
"Impossible," said Leo, floating out of the ceiling, his bellboy cap tilted like a secret.
Serene didn't flinch. "You should clock out sometime, Leo."
"And miss the nightlife? Never."
She smiled faintly. "I'm going to the west wing."
"Ah. The haunted side of paradise."
"It's just older architecture."
"Sure. Tell that to the piano that plays itself after two a.m."
Serene sighed and started walking. "Stay out of sight, Leo."
"Invisible is my middle name."
He followed anyway.
The west wing was quiet with old marble floors, modern lighting, a faint smell of polished wood.
Serene checked room 311. Delivered towel set. Room 318. Hot water request confirmed. Everything seemed perfect.
Then the lights flickered.
Once. Twice.
And went out completely.
Darkness swept through the hall. The only light came from the glowing EXIT sign.
"Told you," Leo whispered cheerfully. "Drama loves you."
Serene switched on her flashlight. "Just a power fluctuation."
Her radio crackled, then died. No connection.
"Mechanical room," she said calmly. "We'll check the main panel."
"Or we could leave this entire mystery to the living."
"Leo."
"Right, right. Loyal sidekick mode."
They turned the corner and stopped. Another flashlight shone back at them.
"Miss Caelis." Lucien Vale called. He stood there in the dark hallway, suit sleeves rolled neatly, eyes steady even in half-light. Somehow, he still looked composed enough to host a meeting.
"Mr. Vale," Serene said, surprised. "Good evening."
"Power's out," he said. "Backup generators didn't switch for this wing. I was heading to the mechanical room."
"So was I."
"Then we'll go together."
He started walking. His tone made it sound less like a choice and more like gravity.
"Cute," Leo whispered. "A midnight duet in LED minor."
Serene muttered, "Please stop talking."
Lucien glanced back. "Excuse me?"
"Just thinking aloud, sir."
Dark hallways and hidden humor. They walked side by side, their flashlights crossing paths on the marble floor. The hallway seemed longer than usual and it's quieter too.
Lucien's steps were precise while Serene's, soft but sure.
"Any guests in this wing?" he asked.
"Only one couple in 323. Everyone else checked out this morning."
"Good. Fewer interruptions."
"And more ghosts," Leo whispered.
Serene coughed to cover a laugh.
Lucien turned slightly. "Something amusing?"
"No, sir. Just… air conditioning noise."
They reached the mechanical room door. Lucien opened it easily, crouched, and examined the breaker box.
"Old system," he murmured. "Upgraded frame, original circuit logic."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning the resort's bones are stubborn."
Serene angled her flashlight to help him see. "How can I assist?"
"Hold the beam steady," he said. "I'll reset the relay."
He flipped one switch. Nothing.
Another. Still nothing.
"Hold it two seconds longer," Serene suggested.
Lucien did. The panel hummed then went completely dead.
Silence.
Then… soft music. A piano melody, faint, floating from nowhere.
Serene closed her eyes. "Oh no."
"Oh yes," said Leo. "We've got a live one. Well, dead one."
From the shadow near the wall, a man appeared translucent, wearing a tuxedo and a gentle smile.
"Evening," he said politely. "Need assistance? I used to play here. Before electricity was fashionable."
Lucien's brows lifted slightly. "Miss Caelis?"
Serene answered quickly. "Just a local… technician, sir."
"Tell him I said maestro, not technician," the ghost said, offended.
She ignored that. "Can you help us restore power?"
"Of course! The third switch sticks treat it like a slow waltz, not a march."
Serene crouched, turned the dial carefully one, two, three, light touch, patient rhythm.
The panel clicked.
The lights blinked back to life. The entire corridor sighed with relief.
Lucien nodded. "Well done."
"Thank you, sir."
"Ahem," said the pianist.
"And thank you, Mr.…?"
"Langley," the ghost said proudly. "Arthur Langley. Former house pianist, still taking requests."
Lucien looked at the now-empty corner. "Remarkable acoustics," he said, half to himself.
Serene smiled faintly. "Very vintage."
"Flirt," Leo muttered.
"Leo," she hissed, "go haunt the piano."
They walked back through the brightened hall. The west wing looked peaceful again. A guest door cracked open. "Power's back?" a sleepy woman asked.
"Yes, ma'am," Serene said warmly. "Everything's stable now."
The guest nodded and closed the door.
Lucien watched her work. "You handle stress well."
"Panic makes things worse."
"True. But most people still choose it."
She gave a small shrug. "I prefer solutions."
"You also prefer hiding ghosts," Leo added.
"Quiet"
Lucien glanced at her. "Sorry?"
"Nothing, sir."
As they neared the exit, Serene caught a familiar fragrance of rose powder and old perfume. Her flashlight flickered once, then steadied.
Vivian Hartley stood by a glass display case, elegant as ever, one hand resting on an antique tea set.
"My apologies," Vivian said softly. "The dark unsettles me. I just wanted to check if the silver was still shining."
"It is, Mrs. Hartley," Serene said gently. "You're safe."
Lucien's gaze followed hers to the empty display. "An issue?"
"Loose cabinet latch," Serene said smoothly. "I'll secure it."
He handed her his flashlight. "Here. I'll hold the light."
Their fingers brushed briefly as she took it. Warm. Surprising.
"He's handsome," Vivian whispered. "Tell him I said so."
Serene whispered back, "Not the time."
Lucien frowned. "Sorry?"
"Talking to myself," she said quickly.
"Good cover," Leo said.
Serene ignored him and fixed the latch. "Done."
"Efficient," Lucien said. "As expected."
She smiled. "Thank you, sir."
Vivian watched them both with the dreamy satisfaction of a ghost who'd found her new favorite drama. Then she faded, leaving behind a trace of her perfume.
They stopped at the main elevator. The digital panel flickered back to life.
Lucien pressed the button, then looked at her again. "You've handled quite a week, Miss Caelis. Ghost complaints, power outages, guest diplomacy."
"Just doing my job, sir."
He studied her a moment, something unreadable in his eyes. "You make it look easy."
"Compliment alert," Leo whispered.
Serene kept her voice calm. "That's kind of you to say."
The elevator arrived with a soft chime. Lucien stepped inside but paused, holding the door.
"One more thing," he said. "If the sconces in that corridor start complaining again, move them to storage. They can reflect on their choices there."
Serene blinked, then laughed before she could stop herself. "Understood, sir."
For a second, his smile matched hers which is brief but real. Then the doors slid shut.
Leo appeared beside her the moment Lucien was gone, clapping his see-through hands.
"You laughed together! That's basically corporate flirting."
"Leo."
"What? The man smiled. Twice. The sea probably wrote it in its diary."
Serene exhaled, but she couldn't hide her grin. "Go help Arthur Langley. He earned a song request."
"Fine. But when your boss starts dreaming about you, I expect royalties."
"Good night, Leo."
"Night, Miss Calm-Under-Pressure."
He vanished with a shimmer.
Serene stood there for a moment, the hum of restored lights wrapping the corridor in peace. Through the tall windows, moonlight rippled on the sea, calm, silver, endless.
She checked her tablet and began typing her final report: Power restored. Guests reassured. No damage. Atmosphere improved.
She added one more quiet note only she would understand: Some lights return easier than others.
Upstairs, Lucien Vale stood by his office window, jacket off, sleeves still rolled. The city glow barely touched the horizon. He reviewed his messages, then paused at one small thought he couldn't quite send to anyone. Building stability improved after midnight. Possibly due to staff initiative.
He almost typed or luck, but deleted it. He looked out at the ocean, thoughtful. For some reason, the night felt easier. Maybe it was coincidence.
Or maybe it was her.
Downstairs, Serene switched off her flashlight, heading toward the lobby. The ghosts were quiet for once. Even the walls seemed content. Outside, the sea whispered against the glass. The living and the dead just for a while were finally in tune.