We offered her a seat. She sat carefully, like the weight of what she carried could snap her bones.
"She's gone," the old lady said. "Her name was Hana."
The detective watched her, silent, waiting.
"Last night, I was walking to the corner shop—just a quick grocery run. That's when I saw her. Hana. She was standing under the streetlight, checking her phone. I waved to her. She didn't see me."
Her hands trembled now.
"That's when they came."
"Who?" I asked, already focusing on the edges of her thoughts. Her mind was hazy, full of static—but the fear was real.
"Two men. They weren't there... and then they were. Just appeared. One stood in front of her. The other behind. Like they'd planned it."
The detective leaned forward slightly. "What did they do?"
"One of them... touched her."
Her voice cracked.
"And she disappeared. Right in front of me. Like she was never there at all."
The room fell silent.
Even Harumi, who'd been quietly listening from the kitchen doorway, took a step closer.
"No lights. No sound," the woman whispered. "She was gone."