Stygian: The Silence Of The Whisperers.

13. Do You Wanna Build A Showman?

I held up that note from last time, waving it like some mystical prediction tool in front of the cat's stone-cold stare. And what do I get in return for my divination efforts? A resounding "meow" that basically screamed, "I'm not joining your unsolved case support group, pal."

I tried to interrogate the cat, giving it my most menacing glare. It just stared back, probably wondering when I'd realize I wasn't in a Disney movie.

Footsteps broke my one-sided staring contest with Mr. Whiskers, so I snapped back to reality, because Jack and Jane were way more engaging than cat mind games.

"Yo, Isabella," with her silky hair and all, strutted by. I whistled to show my appreciation, or maybe just to alert the whole world to her presence.

"Yo, Rickety-Rick," Isabella greeted back, probably because it's scientifically proven that everyone's got to use the "yo" vocabulary.

"Marigold saw a Cloak!" I didn't know what that meant, but it sounded like prime supernatural bait, and I was all in for that stuff after Jack's brain wave transmission incident. Aliens or doughnut Earth, bring it on!

Fast forward to the security observation room, where the security guy stood at attention like he'd been caught stealing cookies. Jack was doing his tech genius thing, zooming in on footage like he was about to find the meaning of life.

Alfred Robinson, the guy with the laser-like stare, whispered something like he was sharing classified information, while Jack manipulated the footage like a DJ remixing a track.

The clip glitched, probably just to mess with our investigation vibes.

"Hey, where's Jane?" I asked Isabella, as if she held the Jane Tracker app on her phone.

"Huh? Oh, downstairs. Shh, don't disturb...me..." Isabella was in some kind of self-induced trance, finger pressed to her ear, like she was receiving signals from Area 51.

Jack was clicking his mouse like it had personally offended him. It was buffering, or at least that's what the guard guy said, while probably thinking we were making a low-budget detective movie.

Yep, I got it. Just sit back, relax, and let the professionals handle it. Oh wait, Jack's mouse clicks somehow fixed the problem and voilà, Marigold and Al appeared on screen, just hanging out.

Turns out Marigold was having a heated discussion with thin air, and Al was all confused, hands doing some interpretive dance routine.

"She's here. Talking about chocolate...?" Isabella seemed like she was lip-reading for aliens, not humans.

Ashley gasped dramatically. I focused, because gasps mean plot twists, right? Jack played the footage in slow-mo, zooming in on Marigold's face like we were watching the final reveal in a crime show.

Marigold's gaze shifted, as if she'd spotted a unicorn in the hallway. She smiled at the invisible being like it had just told a hilarious joke, and they strolled off together. Like, who needs friends when you've got invisible pals, right?

Jack switched to live surveillance. Marigold strutted in, happiness radiating off her like she'd won the lottery.

We all turned to the door like synchronized swimmers, except Jack, who was still glued to the monitor. And Al, who was scanning the scene like he'd lost his keys.

Jane entered, shrugged at the whole magical spectacle, and we all welcomed her with the collective gaze of curious kittens.

Next scene. We gathered around, ready to solve mysteries like Scooby-Doo's entourage. Alfred muttered Marigold's words, like he was quoting Shakespeare for ghosts.