Emmaline was considering a second delicious donut by the time Miss Baker, Cat, finished recounting her tale. Catherine Baker; a name from her own lips. Names were not necessary for someone of Emma’s particular talents but they did make life significantly easier. The bundle of thoughts and emotion that referred to itself as Catherine Baker was a much better target for a magical working than ‘that woman with the blond hair’. She had heard that some soldiers came to identify with their serial numbers to such a degree that you could just use the number. The mathematician in her thrilled to that idea for a moment and then she pushed the thought away as an idle one.

As Cat spoke she had made notes in a small neat notepad with PHI monographed on the top. The possibility that Robert wasn’t recording this was so slight that she didn’t bother trying to take down particular details, rather she focused on impressions. In neat german she wrote: Irish, Sensitive, Local, Recent Death, Unaware.

For obvious reasons, a lot of people of Celtic ancestry possessed minor magical ability, even those several generations removed from their homeland. The girl was clearly a sensitive to the spirit world. Many people got the occasional glimpse of a shade in the first few weeks after a death, a familiar face in the crowd, the expectation of seeing the deceased but they erroneously put it down to the effects of grief. Some people like Cat took the talent a little further. 
A haunting shouldn’t just vanish, particularly not a sibling. Blood relationships and shared experiences made familial hauntings particularly strong. Even with a relatively meager talent, a shade shouldn't’ just vanish overnight, and certainly not in mid speech with a queasy wash of energy.  It is the kind of thing that ought to slowly fade over time as the spirit drifted further from this plane and towards wherever it was spirits went. What sort of working might banish a spirit? An exorcism of some sort? It seemed hard to credit that an elaborate ritual had taken place nearby without Cat noticing it. Emma clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

Looking up from her notes she noticed they were looking at her. A sudden rush of embarrassment hit her, she hoped the woman didn’t think skeptically dismissing her. She cleared her throat.

[color=f7976a][b]“We don't think you are crazy frau… err Miss Baker, far from it,”[/b][/color] Emma began soothingly. Sol nodded to her in the corner of her eye encouraging her to continue.

[color=f7976a][b]“At PHI we keep an open mind and we accept the fact that our clients know themselves better than we can hope to. If you say it is so, then we shall proceed under the assumption that it is. Many of us have seen strange things and we have an appreciation of the strange that many others lack. You made the right decision in coming to us.”[/b][/color] Sol nodded his approval.

Cat seemed to relax, clearly she had been worried that they would laugh at her story. It took courage to come forward with something like this and Cat evidently had that. 

[b][color=f7976a]“After we are done here Miss Baker, I’d like you to cast your mind back to the day your sister’s spirit vanished. Odd coincidences, strange tastes that sort of thing, anything that struck you as unusual but not important. It may prove helpful to us.”[/color][/b] Emma put on her collegiate smile and turned her head to indicate that she didn’t have any further questions at this time. Her eyes cut to the box of nearly finished donuts as she waited for attention to pass to the next staff member.