The café felt different now.
Before, it had been a place filled with warmth, coffee, laughter, the quiet rhythm of people beginning their day.
Now it felt like a stage.
Every movement mattered.
Every glance meant something.
Arman sat at a small table near the back, pretending to scroll through his phone. In front of him sat a cup of coffee he hadn't touched.
Across from him stood Samantha.
She leaned forward slightly, elbows resting where the table would have been if she could truly touch it.
Her eyes were fixed on the table near the window.
The killer's table.
"He's late today," she murmured.
Arman glanced at the clock on the wall.
"He's still within the usual time."
"You're keeping track."
"Yes."
"You're starting to sound like a detective."
"Don't say that too loudly," Arman muttered.
She smiled faintly.
Despite everything, the danger, the memories, the man who had taken her life, being here together felt strangely natural.
Like they were partners in something bigger than either of them.
Arman looked up at her.
"You okay?"
She nodded slowly.
"I think so."
"You think so again."
"You keep noticing that."
"I notice everything about you."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Samantha blinked.
For a moment the tension in the café faded.
"You do?" she asked softly.
Arman shrugged.
"Well… you're the only ghost I know."
"That's a very romantic compliment."
"Wasn't meant to be."
"Sure."
But the way she smiled said she liked hearing it anyway.
Then....
The bell above the café door chimed.
Both of them turned immediately.
The man stepped inside.
Same dark jacket.
Same baseball cap.
Same calm expression.
Samantha's posture stiffened.
"He's here."
Arman leaned back in his chair slightly, pretending to stretch.
"I see him."
The man walked to the counter like he always did.
Same routine.
Same order.
"One coffee."
His voice was just as flat as Samantha remembered.
Arman watched carefully.
The man didn't glance toward their table.
Not yet.
But Samantha noticed something.
"He's nervous."
Arman frowned.
"What makes you say that?"
"His hands."
Arman looked closer.
The man's fingers tapped lightly against the counter.
Not dramatic.
But restless.
Like someone waiting for something.
Or someone.
Samantha suddenly moved closer to Arman's side.
"Can we follow him?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"You're eager."
"I want to know where he goes."
Arman glanced toward the door again.
"Me too."
The barista handed the man his coffee.
He took it.
Turned.
And for a brief moment, his eyes moved across the café.
Past tables.
Past customers.
Then they stopped.
Right on Samantha.
Even from across the room.
Even through the morning crowd.
He saw her.
Arman noticed immediately.
The man didn't react.
Didn't smile.
Didn't show fear.
He just looked.
Like someone confirming something he already knew.
Then he walked out.
The bell chimed again.
Arman stood instantly.
"That's our cue."
They stepped outside into the bright afternoon light.
The man was already halfway down the street.
Walking calmly.
Sipping his coffee.
Arman followed at a distance.
Samantha stayed beside him.
"He knows we're here," she whispered.
"Probably."
"You don't seem worried."
"Oh I'm very worried."
The man turned a corner.
Arman slowed slightly.
Then followed.
The street changed quickly.
Small shops turned into warehouses.
The air began to smell faintly of saltwater.
Samantha's stomach tightened.
"We're going back to the docks."
Arman nodded.
"That's what it looks like."
They reached the end of the street.
The harbor spread out before them again.
Huge cranes.
Stacked containers.
The same place where Samantha's memory had ended.
The man walked toward one of the large warehouse buildings.
Then suddenly.....
He stopped.
Slowly.
He turned around.
Directly toward them.
Samantha froze.
Arman stopped walking.
The man stood about twenty meters away now.
Watching them.
No surprise.
No confusion.
Just that same calm expression.
Then—
He spoke.
"You shouldn't follow people."
Arman felt his pulse spike.
"You shouldn't murder people," he replied.
The man's eyes shifted.
Toward Samantha.
For several seconds he just looked at her.
Then he smiled slightly.
"You're getting stronger."
Samantha felt a cold wave pass through her.
"You can see me clearly now," she said.
"Yes."
Arman stepped forward.
"What do you want?"
The man took another slow sip of coffee.
"I was curious."
"About what?"
The man nodded toward Samantha.
"About how long it would take for her to remember."
The words hit like a punch.
Samantha's voice trembled slightly.
"You were waiting."
"Yes."
"For what?"
The man's eyes darkened slightly.
"For this moment."
Silence stretched across the dockyard.
The wind moved softly across the water.
Arman glanced at Samantha.
She was closer to him now.
Almost leaning against his shoulder.
He knew she couldn't actually touch him.
But the closeness felt real anyway.
He lowered his voice slightly.
"You okay?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
Then she looked back at the man.
"You followed me for months."
"Yes."
"You planned it."
"Yes."
Her voice steadied.
"But you made one mistake."
The man tilted his head.
"What mistake?"
Samantha glanced at Arman.
Then back at the killer.
"You thought I disappeared."
The man's smile faded slightly.
Arman stepped forward.
"But she didn't."
The wind moved through the harbor again.
And suddenly, the quiet tension between them felt like the beginning of something much more dangerous.
But Samantha didn't step away from Arman.
Instead, she stayed close.
Because even though she was a ghost, being beside him made her feel more alive than she had in a long time.