The drive back to the precinct felt longer than usual. Ramis sat in the passenger seat, watching the city pass by. Dr. Elias Reed was quiet in the back seat, but Ramis could feel the man's nervous breathing.
Marcus finally broke the silence. "That woman on the phone didn't sound scared at all. She sounded like she was enjoying herself."
Ramis nodded slowly. "Yeah. Too calm. Like she already knew exactly what we were doing."
When they reached the station, Reed was taken to holding. The task force room quickly filled up again. Marcus pinned new photos on the board while Ruiz dropped a thick folder on the table.
"Reed's notebooks are bad," Ruiz said. "Twenty-three clients. Eight already dead — all ruled natural causes or suicide until now. All of them died smiling."
Marcus rubbed his forehead. "We need to pull every file. Bank records, insurance, family statements — everything."
Ramis stood near the back, arms crossed, listening. His mind kept going back to the woman's smooth voice on the phone. She had called him "the captain's son." She knew who he was.
His phone vibrated. He stepped into the hallway to check it.
Sophia: Hey. Still up for coffee? I finish my rounds at 2. There's a small café near the hospital — quiet, good coffee. No pressure if you can't make it.
Ramis thought for a second, then replied:
Ramis: I can make 2:30. See you there.
At 2:20 he left the station, telling his father he needed to stretch his leg and clear his head. He found the café easily. Sophia was already sitting at a corner table by the window. She wore a cream sweater and jeans, her curly auburn hair down. When she saw him, she smiled warmly.
"You actually showed up," she said as he sat down. "I thought you might get stuck at the station."
Ramis returned the smile. "Needed a break. Thanks for inviting me."
They ordered — black coffee for him, a latte for her. Once the drinks arrived, Sophia leaned forward a little.
"So… how's the knee feeling today?" she asked.
"Still sore, but better than last night," Ramis said. "The bandage you put on helped. My mom also forced soup on me at three in the morning."
Sophia laughed softly. "Sounds like a good mom. Mine used to do the same thing when I came home late from shifts. How are your ribs?"
"Bruised, but I can breathe without wanting to curse, so that's progress." He took a sip of coffee. "What about you? Long night?"
"Pretty standard," she replied, stirring her latte. "Car accident victim, a kid with a broken arm, and one guy who swore he saw ghosts in his hospital room." She smiled. "You get all kinds in the ER. What about you? Any progress on that heavy case you mentioned?"
Ramis hesitated. He couldn't say much, but he felt comfortable talking to her. "We caught a guy this morning. A doctor. Turns out he was making some bad stuff and selling it to the wrong people."
Sophia's eyes stayed on him, calm and interested. "A doctor? That's scary. People trust doctors with their lives. Did he say why he did it?"
"Said rich clients came to him. They wanted an easy way out when life got too hard," Ramis said quietly. "They died smiling and peacefully, like they were having the best dream of their life."
Sophia nodded slowly, her fingers tracing the edge of her cup. "That sounds awful… but also kind of sad. Imagine being so tired of living that you pay someone to make death feel nice." She looked up at him. "You okay? You look like this case is really getting to you."
Ramis shrugged. "It is. We got a phone call today from someone connected to it. A woman. She sounded… relaxed. Like none of this bothers her. She even knew my name."
Sophia tilted her head slightly. "She knew your name? That's creepy. Does that mean she's watching you guys?"
"Maybe," Ramis said. "Or maybe she just has good sources. Either way, it feels like she's a few steps ahead."
Sophia reached across the table and lightly touched his hand for a second. Her fingers were warm. "Be careful, Ramis. Cases like this can pull you in deep. You already got hurt once. Don't let it break you."
Ramis looked at her hand, then back at her hazel eyes. "I'll try. Thanks."
They talked for a while longer. Sophia told him a funny story about an old patient who kept trying to set her up with his grandson. Ramis laughed, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders. For a short time, the Sandman felt far away.
When they finished their coffee, Sophia walked with him to the door.
"I really enjoyed this," she said. "Even if you're carrying the weight of the whole city on your back. Maybe next time we can talk about something normal — movies, food, anything except work."
Ramis smiled. "I'd like that. Next time's on me."
She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "Take care of yourself, okay?."
She turned and walked toward the hospital, her curly hair moving with the light breeze.
Ramis stood there for a moment, watching her go. The conversation had felt good. But something about the way she listened — so carefully —stayed with him.
He shook the thought away and headed back to the precinct.
Back inside, the mood was heavier. Reed had started talking in exchange for protection. Marcus and Ruiz were taking notes while the doctor spoke.
"She calls herself the Dream Weaver," Reed said quietly. "I never met her face to face. Crowe handled the meetings. She chooses the clients herself. Decides when they get the final dose."
Marcus leaned forward. "How does she pick them?"
"Rich, tired, desperate," Reed answered. "She has access to hospital records, private files… sometimes even police reports. She knows how to make everything look clean and peaceful."
Ramis stood near the door, listening. Hospital records. The words sat uncomfortably in his mind.
His phone buzzed again. A new message from Sophia:
Sophia: Hope the rest of your day gets better 😀 Let me know if you need anything.
Ramis read it twice, then put the phone away without replying right away.
They had made progress today — Reed in custody, notebooks full of evidence.
But somewhere in Eldridge City, a woman with a soft voice was still moving pieces on a board only she could see.