Micah launched into a re-telling of the haunting.
Luka whistled. “That scenario is straight out of a horror movie.”
“It’s the most activity I’ve ever experienced personally.”
“And how does it make you feel?” He leaned closer. “Is it what you expected?”
“I think right now I’m still processing. It’s funny how we wait for things to happen, and when they do, we’re never ready.” He pushed his chair back and stood. The coffee break had run long enough.
“I don’t know, bro. I believe you, and I’m still having a hard time accepting your story as fact.”
“I have to get this case solved, so I can court Daize properly.”
“Court? Oh, little brother, you have it bad.” Luka nudged Micah with his elbow and the mood lifted. He felt better for the telling.
DAIZE
“The entity h
as never tried to harm you. It’s startled you and worked damn hard to get your attention. Maybe all it wants to do is be heard,” Micah suggested.
“They couldn’t be nicer?” Daize quipped.
“We don’t know how long they’ve been trying to be heard. It takes a lot for them to gain enough energy to do anything. Maybe you’re the first person sensitive enough to really notice them,” Carl explained.
“I’ve never thought of myself as particularly sensitive.”
“Are you intuitive?” Mel’s multi-colored hair had been gathered in an elaborate braid that hung down her back and contrasted with the black T-shirt she’d paired with skinny jeans.
“Maybe?” Daize said skeptically.
“Do you get feelings that turn out to be true?” Mel asked.
“Yes.” She nodded. She often creeped her friends out with her uncanny ability to know things. Her gut had saved her a million times over.
“Being sensitive doesn’t always mean seeing dead people. It’s a matter of being open and tapping into more than what we see,” Mel explained.
“Why me, though?” Daize asked, exhausted.
“From the research we did earlier, I may have come up with a theory.” Micah sighed. “Bear with me. Cincinnati was a bit of a catchall. We had a ton of immigrants who came and made a living here. We also had a lot of freed African Americans.”
“You think they’re black, and so they relate to me?” she asked slowly.
“It’s not a bad thought. Maybe the other people who lived here before frightened them. If they were from that time, it’s quite possible they would remain silent and hidden for their own protection. Spirits don’t experience the passage of time the way we do. They don’t understand things have changed. It’s part of why they’re often confused by people living in what they still believe is their space,” Trish said.
“So, what do I need to do?” Daize placed a hand on her chest.
“We figure out what it is they’re trying to tell us, and once the message is received, things might end,” Micah answered.
“Might?” Daize said sharply.
“It’s not an exact science. We talked about this.” Micah’s voice was soft.
“I know. I’m just ...” She exhaled. “I’m tired, and I want my home back.”
“We want the same thing for you,” Trish promised.
“The plan is to have you try to communicate with them. They respond to you.” Micah shrugged.