CLARA HAYES' POV
The CSI bullpen had the stillness of a mausoleum and not the productive silence of people buried in work, but the suffocating quiet of a room where everyone was afraid to make the wrong noise. Conversations were whispered, and keyboards were tapped gently, and even the coffee machine seemed to hiss more softly, as if it understood that the room had become sacred ground for something dead.
I stood in the center of it all with my hands buried in the pockets of my blazer, watching dust drift lazily through the fluorescent light. I don't believe in ghosts or fate or cosmic signs or any of the mystical nonsense people cling to when things stop making sense. I believe in systems, evidence, and behavioural patterns; people are predictable if you study them long enough.
