At precisely 3:51 a.m., the screen changed. The overhead lights flickered as though struck by static. A bluish glow pooled near the ceiling. Logan’s eyelids fluttered, something that should have been impossible given his neurological state. Conrad leaned closer, breath held.
Logan’s body remained still, but something seemed to rise. A silhouette. A shimmer. A translucent figure with Logan’s features, but tinted in pale moonlight. It moved toward Marina, who slept upright in the chair, exhaustion claiming her. The figure extended a hand and touched her gently on the crown of her head. There was no violence. No intimacy. Only contact, like a parent waking a child from a nightmare. Marina flinched, but did not wake. A surge of energy rippled through the monitors. Heart rate. Brain activity. Everything spiked.
The figure returned to the bed and lay down, dissolving as it aligned with the physical body. Conrad sat very still. He replayed the scene repeatedly, unable to accept what he saw, yet unable to deny it existed. Later that afternoon, he summoned Detective Rhea Dunham of the Denver Police Department. She watched the footage twice, her jaw tightening.