GhostBusters: Rift In Dimensions

Chapter Twelve

Y/N's P.O.V

We all sat there, stunned.

Louis nearly choked on his coffee—whether from the shock or the temperature, I couldn't tell—but honestly, none of us were doing much better.

The message was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

No trace.

No residue.

Just... gone.

Like it had never been there at all.

Except we all saw it.

We all read it.

And now—

We all had to live with it.

The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable, as we exchanged uncertain looks. No one seemed ready to speak. No one seemed ready to decide anything.

Which didn't help me.

At all.

I let out a long, frustrated sigh and pushed myself up from the chair.

"I—uh... I'm gonna go upstairs," I muttered.

No one stopped me.

No one tried to.

Honestly, I was grateful for that.

I made my way up to the sleeping quarters, the familiar creak of the stairs echoing louder than usual. Everything felt... off. Like the firehouse itself was holding its breath.

I sat down on my bed, elbows resting on my knees, face buried in my hands.

My thoughts were a mess.

Milo.

Dorthea.

The book.

The dreams.

The powers.

And now—

Lies.

Or at least... someone was lying.

The problem was—

I didn't know who.

Footsteps approached.

I lifted my head slightly.

Winston.

Even though he could clearly see me, he still knocked gently on the doorframe.

"Mind if I come in?" he asked.

I nodded, letting out another quiet sigh.

"Yeah... go ahead."

He stepped in, but didn't come too close. Just leaned against the wall for a second, giving me space.

"You okay?" he asked.

I let out a humorless breath.

"Define 'okay.'"

That earned the faintest hint of a smile from him.

"Fair enough."

I dropped my gaze back to the floor.

"It's just... a lot," I admitted. "Everything. All of it." I gestured vaguely toward the stairs. "And now that?"

My voice softened.

"I don't even know who to believe anymore."

Winston shifted, then crouched down in front of me—not too close, just enough to be on my level.