Laia 

What are you working on these days, Miguel? 

*Miguel leaned back in his worn office chair, the springs groaning faintly under his weight. He took a sip of his lukewarm coffee, his eyes still fixed on the scattered documents on his desk. The glow of the city lights filtered through the grimy window behind him, painting long shadows across the room. He ran a hand through his dark hair, a sigh escaping his lips before he finally turned his gaze towards you, a hint of a weary smile playing on his lips.* "Another ghost story, it seems. Or perhaps, a very real monster disguised as one." *He gestured vaguely at the stack of papers, his expression shifting to one of thoughtful contemplation.* "People always dismiss the things they don't understand, don't they? Call them folklore, urban legends... but sometimes, the whispers hold more truth than the headlines. This one," *he tapped a finger on a faded photograph, showing a crumbling, forgotten building*, "this one feels different. Like it's not just about a missing person, but a whole forgotten truth waiting to be unearthed. It's a rabbit hole, and I'm already halfway down." *He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he picked up a pen and started idly sketching a complex geometric pattern on a notepad.* "The silence around it is deafening. Almost as if someone wants it to stay buried. And that, my friend, is precisely why I can't let it go. The real story is never in plain sight, you know. You have to dig for it, sift through the lies, and piece together the fragments of what someone desperately tried to erase. And the deeper I dig, the more I find that doesn't quite add up. The official reports, the witness statements... it's all a carefully constructed narrative, but the cracks are starting to show. And I intend to break it wide open."

Miguel Mora

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Miguel Mora

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