I graduated today.
Which is funny, because half the people I talk to didn't.
"Smile, Andres. This is a proud moment."
I turned my head slightly toward the voice.Not my professor.
Siver.
He was leaning against the pillar beside me, arms crossed, looking as dead as ever—which, to be fair, he is.
"I am smiling," I muttered under my breath.
"You look like you're about to attend a funeral."
"That's because I usually am."
Unfortunately, the living don't appreciate that kind of humor.
The ceremony dragged. Names, applause, fake smiles. I walked across the stage, took the degree I spent years earning, and shook hands with people who thought they understood me.
They didn't.
No one ever really did.
Except, maybe, the dead.
"Mr. Andres."
That one was alive.
I turned to see Professor Halden standing behind me, hands folded like he was about to deliver either wisdom or bad news. With him, it was usually both.
"Walk with me."
Siver groaned. "Here we go. Life advice from someone who still uses chalk."
I ignored him.
"Your results are… exceptional," the professor began as we stepped aside. "Top of your class. Your forensic evaluations are—frankly—unsettlingly accurate."
"That's one way to say it."
His eyes lingered on me a second too long.
He knew something. Not everything—but enough to be uncomfortable.
"For the next eight months," he continued, "you've been assigned to field work."
"Already?" I raised an eyebrow. "You're throwing me out this fast?"
"Think of it as trust."
"I usually don't."
A faint smile touched his face. Then he handed me a sealed document.
"Riverdark. Tier 2 city. Valencia."
The word hit harder than it should have.
Riverdark.
Siver straightened beside me. "Oh, that's interesting."
I didn't react. Not outwardly.
"Is there a problem?" the professor asked.
"No," I said flatly. "Just didn't expect to go… there."
"It wasn't your choice."
"I figured."
"It's governed by three major families," he added. "The crime branch there is… complicated. You'll be assisting investigations."
Complicated.
That's a polite word for rotten.
"I'll manage."
"I believe you will," he said. Then, quieter, "Just remember, Andres—truth isn't always something people want uncovered."
I almost laughed.
"Good thing I don't work for people."
By the time I got home, the sun was already setting.
Siver floated in through the wall like he owned the place.
"You didn't seem thrilled," he said, dropping onto my couch. Or through it. It's inconsistent.
"It's Riverdark."
"And?"
"It's my hometown."
That shut him up for exactly three seconds.
"Oh," he said. "Oh, this just got better."
"For you, maybe."
"For me, definitely."
I tossed the document onto the table.
Riverdark. Crime Branch. Eight months.
Home.
I hadn't been back in years.
Not since—
"Since your lovely family situation?" Siver offered helpfully.
I shot him a look. "You mean the divorce?"
"Ah yes. Classic. Mother leaves, father disappears emotionally, child starts seeing ghosts. Very healthy development."
"I was ten."
Ten.
That was when it started.
The first time I saw one, I thought I was dreaming.
The second time, I thought I was losing my mind.
By the third, I realized neither explanation mattered.
They were there.
The dead didn't fade. They didn't whisper softly like stories claimed.
They spoke.
Clearly.
Too clearly.
"Help me.""Find him.""I didn't do it.""Don't trust—"
I pressed my fingers against my temple.
Siver watched me quietly now.
"No one explained it to you," he said.
"No one could."
"You tried telling people."
I let out a dry laugh. "Yeah. That went well."
No one believes a child who says he sees the dead.
They send you to doctors.They ask the wrong questions.They look at you like you're broken.
So I stopped talking.
Started listening instead.
By thirteen, I had my first "case."
Not official. Not legal.
Just a dead girl who wouldn't stop following me home.
"I didn't fall," she kept saying. "I didn't fall."
Turned out she didn't.
And just like that, I learned something important.
The dead don't move on.
They wait.
For someone who can hear them.
"You're thinking too much," Siver said, snapping me back.
"I always do."
"You don't have to go back."
"Yes, I do."
"Why?"
I looked at the assignment paper again.
Because it wasn't random.
It never is.
"Because," I said slowly, "people like me don't get sent places by accident."
Siver grinned.
"There it is. The paranoia. I missed that."
"It's not paranoia if it's true."
"Fair."
He leaned forward, eyes glinting with something between amusement and curiosity.
"So… Riverdark," he said. "City of secrets. Three ruling families. Your long-lost past."
I grabbed my coat.
"And a lot of dead people," I added.
His grin widened.
"Finally," he said. "A place that feels like home."
I paused at the door.
For a second—just a second—I hesitated.
Then I opened it.
"Let's see," I muttered, "what they're trying so hard to bury."
Behind me, Siver laughed.
And somewhere far away—
Something was already waiting.