Trying to Replace a Ghost

And Other Things That Remind Me of You

Personal Entry (02/03/2026)

(Not for publication.)

Remi left his notepad behind.

Half-scribbled notes. Messy arrows. Unfinished thoughts.

He’s not coming back for it.

Transferred back to his old city.

Coward.

Through and through.

I don’t blame him.

This place has become unbearably sentimental.

The station feels like a house where someone just died and no one wants to move the furniture.

Cortado looks… hollow.

He’s functioning. Filing. Driving. Responding to dispatch. But the spaces between his words are longer.

Remi wouldn’t want him like this.

So I made a decision.

Operation: Cheer Up Cortado.

I started the day by being intentionally insufferable.

Asked him for rides when I didn’t need one.
Complained about paperwork.
“Accidentally” leaned against his car with my boot.
Insisted he pay for my coffee because “you’re the senior officer.”

It’s what Remi would do, right?

The constant pestering. The exaggerated helplessness. The way he’d orbit Cortado until the man couldn’t help but respond.

I even copied the tone. Slightly dramatic. Slightly pathetic.

It felt ridiculous.

It didn’t work.

Cortado humored me.

But grief is not distracted that easily.

There’s a difference between annoyance and absence.

Remi filled space.

I am just imitating noise.

There was a car show hosted by the mechanics today. The entire precinct practically relocated there.

Engines revving. Music playing. Civilians laughing.

I dragged Regal to get a new outfit beforehand.

“You need something red,” I told him.

Something that felt appropriate. Like we’re honoring someone without saying it out loud.

I don’t know why I care about appearances so much.

Maybe because they’re easier to control than emotions.

At the car show, everyone tried to act normal.

But the smiles were thinner.

I’m trying.

I truly am.

But I’m tired of playing the upbeat distraction.

I can’t patch grief with jokes.

Maybe I should stop trying to fix people and start doing what I signed up to do.

Actual work.

Actual investigations.

Something with structure.

Something that makes sense.

Then the BOLO came.

Missing person.

Orly.

She used to work at the cat café with me.

Devastated over Marcus.

We searched everything.

Helicopters overhead. Patrol cars combing streets. Boats cutting through dark water.

When we found her, she was at the bottom of the sea.

The sea.

It was eerily quiet.

EMS had to scuba dive.

I stood on the edge watching bubbles surface.

Nana went in first.

Reckless. Desperate.

She nearly drowned.

Chief Serpico followed.

He nearly drowned too.

Water.

They both seem to have a terrible relationship with it.

I watched it happen.

Calculated distances. Assessed risk.

I did not panic.

I did not scream.

I observed.

When Orly was finally brought up, soaked and pale, I waited for the emotional rush.

Still nothing.

Just relief that the situation was resolved.

Is this how I am built?

Or is something missing?

Afterward, the Chief suspended Nana for the day. Forced support on her whether she wanted it or not.

He doesn’t waver when it comes to protecting his own.

I rode with him again later.

We caught a burglar.

Ryan Jenner.

He only wanted to talk to me.

Said he had information.

Important information.

But he needed a lawyer present to make the deal official.

For some reason, his lawyer never arrived.

Processing moved forward.

He was sent to prison.

Information lost.

I told the Chief he had something to offer.

I’m still unsure why we didn’t wait.

I’m unsure of a lot of things lately.

And then…

My phone buzzed.

Remi.

Finally.

The message was absurd.

Something about how he’s being kidnapped by gnomes, something about losing his phone, something about how I should make sure Cortado doesn’t start listening to sad music.

It was idiotic.

It was him.

And I smiled.

I shouldn’t have.

He left. Transferred. Escaped.

He didn’t stay to sit in the heaviness with everyone else.

Coward.

But…

I have no right to be angry.

No right to expect loyalty from someone who never promised it.

No right to miss him.

I read the message three times.

Then once more.

I told myself it was to analyze tone.

It wasn’t.

I started smoking today.

I don’t carry a lighter.

Need to make sure to ask someone else for a lighter.

The smoke lingers on my jacket.

It smells like him.

Or maybe I just associate recklessness with him.

I told myself I will never let anyone ruin me.

And yet…

Today, standing on that beach, watching people I work with nearly drown for someone they care about…

Hmmm…