Lynn stared. "You… knew the ghost?"
Cyrus nodded once, slowly. "He wasn't always a ghost."
The weight of those words pressed the air thin.
Lynn sank onto the couch, arms wrapped around herself. "So 'Eli'… that name outside my door…"
Cyrus closed his eyes briefly. "Yes."
The room felt colder.
Lynn whispered, "What happened to him?"
He hesitated.
Pain flickered across his face—real and raw.
"I can tell you," he said quietly, "but you won't sleep tonight if I do."
She swallowed hard. "Cyrus… I already can't sleep."
He sat across from her, leaning forward, his voice low.
"Eli died in that building. And he didn't die peacefully."
A shiver climbed her spine.
"And ever since," Cyrus continued, "he's been trying to reach someone who can see him. Someone who can hear him."
Lynn's pulse throbbed in her ears.
"Why me?"
Cyrus met her eyes, and there was something almost tender in his expression.
"Because you listen, Lynn. Even when you're scared."
She didn't know why, but hearing that made her chest ache.
Outside, the hallway light flickered once, as if someone was waiting right behind her door.
She whispered, "Cyrus… am I safe?"
He looked at her—quiet, steady, and impossibly sincere.
"I'll make sure you are," he said.
"Even if Eli doesn't want to let you go."