“I know you don’t want to do this Yuka,” Michael walked up to her and placed his hand on her shoulder, peering over at all the files sprawled out on her desk.
“Then why are you making me do this?” She slid her chair back in disgust, almost rolling the chair’s wheels over his foot.
“You know we need you,” He rolled the chair back towards the desk before taking a seat and organizing her files—photos of a young deceased girl mixed with various police reports and eye-witness accounts of murder on Tanglewood street.
After a deafening silence, she turns back towards the desk and picks up the girls’ photos. She tried to hold back tears.
“I know she’s still there,” Yuka shuffled the photos back into a brown envelope.
“And your sister needs you,” He looked up as his Japanese counterpart, “I know we have other hunters on the team, but if we bring you, she will make her presence known.”
“It isn’t fair to do it that way, Michael.”
“I know, but it’s the only way.”
“You don’t need me to make her come out. She was never shy.”
“But she could tell us who did it,” Michael shuffled the police reports in frustration, “the police aren’t doing anything. They don’t have the evidence to find her killer. If we can find her in Tanglewood, we can try to get her to tell us who stabbed her.”
“She was only twelve, Michael!”
The tension weighed the air down around them. Michael was right. Even if Mina wasn’t shy around anyone, there’s a better chance her spirit would communicate if her older sister, Yuka, was there.
“You’ve done hundreds of investigations, Yuka.”
“This one is different, and you know this,” she tucked the file of photos away and walked over to the cabinet full of equipment, eyeing the spirit box, “but if you only think she will talk to me…”
“Fine, I’ll go,” she didn’t realize a tear had fallen down her cheek onto the spirit box, “so she can tell us who killed her.”
“I’m coming, Mina.”