Following them inside the tiny office, I stood still in the dark corner by the door, shrouded in shadows.

Not that hiding was necessary; they couldn't see me anyway. None of them could... except for the young woman who just sat at the side of the desk further away from me, facing the two men seated opposite of her now, and me.

Listening to the words of that mysterious woman, the detective, not much older than her, and the middle-aged police sketch-artist, set to work on a drawing-- an amazingly detailed portrait of a man, whom they believed to have been present at the crime scene. The prime suspect, who was either a murderer or at least a criminal of some other sort, as the victim's death wasn't confirmed as a murder yet. Someone who had had a hand, somehow, in the poor teenage boy's demise.

The finished picture... represented me. And it was a perfect portrait, an incredibly precise mirror image of my face, thanks to her.

How did she do that?

The woman whom they called Julia, an attractive blonde in her mid-twenties, described me to them in the smallest details. My tall and slim figure, curly blonde hair, white and flawless complexion... Even the unusual icy-blue colour of my eyes she chose perfectly-- they looked even more inscrutable and enigmatic in their drawing than in reality.

The whole time while she tried to recollect what she had seen when she found the dead boy, her eyes kept strolling towards the precise spot where I was standing in the detective's office, across the room from her. She couldn't see me now, it seemed, but she could definitely feel my presence.

The most puzzling thing was that Julia didn't look confused or upset by my being there; something similar must have happened to her before.

For once, it was me who felt mystified...

People couldn't see me, not those who were not about to pass away. I made myself visible only to the dying when I came to accompany their souls into their new existence. That way, they followed me willingly, without fear or hesitation. But it was not Julia's turn.

How did she know about me?

Centuries had passed since I met a human with the ability to perceive my presence or to see me... This Julia seemed to possess this rare power. I needed to know more about her.

Who was she?

When she finished at the police station, I decided to follow her. She walked out of the old, red brick building and down the road, her long blonde waves glittering like snow in the sunshine. It was a beautiful, hot summer day, but she kept shivering and looking around suspiciously all the way home. She could feel me, walking close behind her. It was obvious. And even though I was sorry for making her feel uneasy, I could not leave her alone.

Soon she reached her house and we entered. The interior was dark and cool after the sunshine and heat reigning outside. Julia squinted into the semi-darkness, then turned around quickly and locked the door.

She put her bag and the bunch of keys on a narrow table by the front door, then looked in the large mirror hanging on the wall above it. Julia observed her own reflection, then the surrounding room echoed in the glass, as if she was searching for something evanescent that kept eluding her. A long while passed before, finally, giving up all pretence, her piercing, moss green eyes bore directly into mine mirrored in front of her.

How was she doing it?! How could she see me? I was not able to understand. She was a special one; I had never met anyone so powerful before.

"Who are you?" she asked, her pleasant voice not much louder than a shy whisper. As if she was afraid that she would scare me away if she spoke any louder.

"I'm just one of the many Angels of Death," I murmured, telling her the truth slowly, carefully, letting my words sink. "But who are you? How can you see me?"

I had never felt more curious.