Grissom looked back at the glass shard. It wasn't glass. It was a fragment of a high-capacity fiber optic cable. "The evidence doesn't lie, but it does speak in different languages. He wasn't telling us he was available. He was warning us that we were."
"And the writing?" Grissom asked, gesturing to the photo of the glowing door. Grissom looked back at the glass shard
As the clock struck midnight, the lights of the Strip didn't just flicker—they turned red. The ghost had left the door open. Grissom looked back at the glass shard