Mary drifted through the brick walls of Miller's Court, her torn black cloak trailing wisps of fog. Her glowing eyes fixed on the detective standing near her old room. Inspector Abberline searched for answers she alone could give. She had to guide him to the truth. The inspector pulled a dusty mirror from the corner of the room. He wiped the glass with his sleeve. Mary pressed closer, letting her face appear in the reflection beside his. Abberline jumped back, his notebook falling to the floor. But he didn't run. He stared at her ghostly image in the glass, his mouth open. Mary pointed toward the window, then faded from the mirror. She needed to show him more. Outside, a golden sphere of light appeared above the cobblestones, casting shadows against the buildings. The glow moved down the alley like a lantern without a carrier. Abberline grabbed his coat and followed it into the street. The light led him to a newspaper stand on the corner. Headlines screamed about the murders, but Mary drew his attention to a smaller notice. A name. A location. The pieces he needed were finally coming together. She watched him read the words twice, his face going pale. He pulled out his pencil and wrote furiously in his notebook. Mary's form flickered with hope. Soon, he would know everything.