There were only two couples and a young woman in the old restaurant, t. Looking around, Ansela leaned over the seat comfortably. Taking the glass close to her mouth, she tightened her grip.

Outside, the sun shone brighter and brighter, the warm wind driving people towards the beaches. Yes, everything was happening pretty usual.

But it didn't relate to her. Neither to the murderer.

Sticking in her thoughts, She had the last sip of the smoothie.

As Ansela got into the car, she heard someone talking loudly. A gang of teens - three girls and two guys - were sitting around a table outside.

"Yes, but after her fiancée was killed... nobody has seen-" Said the black-haired guy, but the blondie beside him cut him off.

"She is the murderer. The police are chasing her. Soon she'd be in jail." She said.

"We don't know exact-" He spoke again, but the blondie cut him off.

"Come on, Kevin. Why did she run away if she wasn't guilty?" She tucked a curl behind her ears.

"Monica, I know you hate homosexuals. But-"

"Yes, I fucking hate them because they are-" Ansela could not hear the rest as a few girls walked away, giggling loudly.

"You just hate them. Admit it." That was the guy behind Kevin.

"Yes, I hate them. Are you happy now?" She smirked.

Ansela shook her head, putting a hand into her backpack. Pulling out a map, she shot a glare at that gang. They were chatting as sipping their drinks.

Have they ever felt the pain of a loss? No. Do they know how bright the flame of revenge is? Not at all.

And the feelings... they are not born with prior notice. If you are trying to stop them by putting barriers, then you are such an immature jerk.

She turned to the map. There were some black marks on the map. A smile appeared on her face as she stared at the map for a while.

She was following the murderer. Her way was also his way.

She sneakily looked around. Seeing no one's looking at her, she pulled the ebony wand from her backpack. She could almost hear her brain whizzing. She placed its tip over the black marks on the map and took a deep breath.

She felt it.

The smell of his blood. But it faded in seconds because of the aroma that came from the restaurant. Ansela tried to catch it again, but it was useless. However, she got what she needed.

"Do you think to hide from me then?" Ansela's voice was sarcastic. "Not even in your dreams. You can hide from others, but not from me."

Looking at the new mark on the map, she whispered underneath her breath. "Here we go."

* * *

The car paced forward slowly and finally stopped in front of a three-storied building. The warm, salty air welcomed Ansela as she got down. Faking a smile, she passed the wide mahogany door.

"Good evening, ma'am." Said the receptionist, giving a friendly glance at Ansela.

Ansela smiled slightly. "I booked a room last night."

"Let me check, ma'am." The receptionist turned to the computer. "May I know your name?"

"Lisa Maxwell."

'Here you are." The receptionist handed Ansela a key, still plastering a smile on her face. "Room number 107. If you are going out, please make sure to hand over the keys to the receptionist."

Ansela slightly nodded and disappeared. In seconds, she stepped into the hotel room. She threw her backpack onto one of the chairs, wiping her face. Sitting on the comfortable bed, she drank half of the water in the bottle.

After resting for about ten minutes, she pulled the backpack towards her.

She had a plan.

Before pulling the wand out, Ansela checked if she had locked the door and the window. She tore a page from the notebook and brushed it to shove away the wrinkles on it.

Reminiscent of the murderer's look, she placed the wand's tip right in the middle of her forehead. Exactly, at that moment, the hotel drowned in the dark. The voices of panicked people suddenly rose. But it didn't bother Ansela. Her eyes were closed, diving so deep into memories.

Ansela took the wand through a paper. As the wand's tip hit it, a sketch slowly appeared on it. She opened her eyes, and electricity was back. When she looked at the paper, a scarlet face with messy black hair and wide-open black eyes with thin eyebrows was on it.

Ansela let a chuckle out. "Well, not even the god will be saving you from me now!"

She dug into her backpack, but her eyebrows narrowed in seconds. Suddenly, a smile appeared on her face.

"Finally!" She whispered, pulling out a summer dress and a small purse. She directly walked into the bathroom. Another five minutes passed, and Ansela walked out.

The knee-length red and gold striped summer dress showed off her figure perfectly. Her dark brown hair was tied loosely with a red ribbon, covering the birthmark on her collarbone.

She put the bag in the car and locked it. She knew how unsecured hotel rooms were. A thin, long wire can easily change everything.

* * *

Ansela looked around while walking through the smooth sand.

Where to begin? Will these people help me?

They won't help willingly, do something to make them help you. A part of Ansela's head spoke.

Oh great, what should I do? She rolled her eyes.

It's in your hands.

She stroked her hair slowly and made her way through the crowd. She stopped at a girl who was just standing near a lifeguard tower.

"Um... Excuse me." Ansela tapped the girl's shoulder.

The girl turned back. "Yeah?"

Ansela pulled the sketch out. "Um... have you seen this guy? He is my friend's boyfriend. I need to talk to him."

The girl shook her head slowly. "Sorry."

"Okay." Ansela smiled and walked away.

When she stepped towards a gang of boys, they gave her a curious look.

"Hey, sweetie." One said, winking.

"Hey." Ansela smiled. "Um... have you seen this guy? I need to talk to him."

"He looks like an idiot." The tallest, muscly boy asked, others laughing.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Another one asked. "Oh girl, I feel so sorry for you."

"Not mine, my friend's."

"Um... Nah." The boy said. "Sorry."

Ansela looked at the other boys. They shook their heads.

"Okay, thank you."

"No problem." The tallest boy said. "If you can't find him, come here. I am waiting for you."

"Fine." Ansela nodded.

For about an hour, she hovered around the crowded beach, asking the same question from about twenty others. All of them had the same answer.

"No, sorry."

Exhausted, she walked away from the crowd. She came to a deserted area and sat on a large boulder. Looking at the sketch, she dived deep into an ocean of thoughts.

"He isn't a ghost, is he?" Leaning against the rock, she asked herself. "Or did he change his plan?"

She sucked a liberal amount of air, feeling the salt taste. As the air filled her lungs, she felt something. Her sensors caught something.

No, he is still here.

She took off her shoes and stood on the rock, gazing at the surroundings. She heard white bubbles crumbling on the sand with a rhythm. A tall line of trees stood like giants in the far corner of the beach.

"Maybe he hasn't come out yet." She spoke to herself. "But he will soon. And then I won't let him slip away."

* * *