A DETECTIV

, quiet, except for the distant hum of traffic and the occasional siren. But sleep was never truly restful fo

silent, sterile in its precision-the way she liked it. Nothing out of place. No

rench press, filling it, heating water, and letting the aroma fill the tiny kitchen. Sh

hone

rom the

se of death: Unknown. Suspicious circumstances. Similar to

jaw tig

ready, the same pattern she had been chasing for weeks had returned-another victi

otion, was measured, precise. No wasted energy. That was what made her good at this job. That, a

yscape blurred past. Streetlights reflected off slick asphalt. She was calm, controll

shipping containers towered over the fog-drenched street. The air sme

man with a steady gaze, his expression neutral but alert. "Ella," he

ded. "S

irties, eyes open but blank, skin pale with a bluish tinge. His hands were bound behind his b

detail to another-the positioning of the body, the faint scuff marks on the floor, t

er. "You think it's

on the man's neck-a faint puncture wound, almost imperceptible. "Possibly," she said f

four cases. The same message she had ignored at first, thinking it was coinciden

mething," she murmured. "Something crucial. These

in this state. When Ella was chasing threads that led into the dark c

g it closely. A partial footprint, smudged and faint. Not enough to identify,

ce. And, crucially, fearlessness. That combination always signaled somethin

to the docks in the last two weeks. Delivery schedul

ded. "Alre

ning at the unknown number flashing on the screen. She he

d. Static first. Then a

. But every step you take, the shadows are watchi

ne wen

om the awakening of something deeper. Something she had been trying to suppress:

" she murmured. "Th

r. "Careful, Ella. This is bigger t

wing. "I know. And that's exa

age revealed little-shadowy figures moving past cameras too quickly, too cleanly.

uring everything. She could hear the distant lapping of water against the hulls of ships, the

out warning. Clear, detai

rr

the fog and vanished again-but now his face was there, impossible and sharp in her mind. His eyes, wide w

at a memory she didn't have, a connection she co

ran down

footsteps startl

n plain clothes, badges flashing, guns

e said ca

tographs. Crime scene photos. Surveillance stills. A

scene. Recognizable only by his stance, his posture. But so

d. Her breath hit

es

to this. He's the patte

wned. "You

ain. Her hands shook slightly. Her heart pound

yet she knew-whatever her instincts were telling her-they were about to collide with a reality she

p and urgent. A black SUV emerged from the mist, tires

a f

door opened. And a sin

istory she couldn't place. A presence that demanded at

nt up inst

voice low, deliberat

gan... we need

seemed to close around her, de

stirred. Watching. Waiting. And she

k, features hidden under a hood that did little to obscure a familiarity Ella couldn't place. Every ins

. Every nerve screamed, alert, alive, ready. The cold morning fog wra

e figure said calmly, voice low, deliberate. "But no

grip on the gun ti

ou know him. Or... you will. But right now, you need to trust me. On

on? What are you talking about? Who

r, lowering their hood s

spark, a depth of knowledge, a truth buried beneath layers she couldn't yet a

. And they're hunting him because of you. Everything points b

he was gone. Missing. Lost. And now this-someone claim

"Why is my memory important? And w

. A low engine growl, tires splashing through puddles. Headlights carv

the figu

ge, a narrow corridor between shipping containers. Their footsteps splash

t hesitate. If they find him before you understand, he's dead.

-danger. But her curiosity, her compulsion to protect, an

ssing herself against the cold

m their jacket-a tactical tablet, encrypted, flashing with data. Images, ma

ity, in law enforcement, in business. They eliminate anyone who remembers, anyone who might

d he know? What had she forgotten? And why did

fog seemed to pulse with movement, as

utrun them, not forever. But we can fight

heart

rr

, running, but determined. Larry. His clothes were soaked, mud streaked across his legs. Blood ha

-hit her like a tidal wave. She didn't know why, or ho

rward. "Larry!

, fear, confusion-a storm of emotion flashed across his face. B

ped instinctively, rolling behind a rusted container. Ella dove beside him, fi

sed, gun raised. "They've

cold metal, heart racing.

mpossible calculus of survival. But inside her, the emotional ache-th

gh a narrow gap. He caught sight of the attackers-three of them, precise, coordinated, tactical. They

they?" he

rganization. And they want you dead.

k. "Something I

hear the fear beneath her control. "And I... I

n. The fog made their approach silent but inevitable. The stra

as a calculated risk. Every breath, a gamble. The fog pressed aro

la. "Why does it fe

se... maybe you do. Someday you'll remember. And when y

through the mist. They spun. A shadow lunged from b

s he didn't know he knew-kicked in. He grabbed the attacker's wrist

the shadows. Guns raised.

ed. "Larry... the

ing the container near Larry's head. Sparks fle

he mist-a voice. L

. Larry... you can'

Ella's eyes narrowed. Rec

ganization had arrived. And this morning-the morning that had begun

at Ella. Sh

ere in the eye of something

o idea what wa