Chapter 7 · The Apartment That Vanished

"Don't touch anything."

Mara's hand was already on the doorknob. The carved mark underneath her palm felt warm, like someone had just pressed a thumb into wax. Adrian's father's seal. She'd seen it twice before—once in the city archive, once in a crime scene photo her mother refused to talk about.

"I'm not asking," Adrian said. He was close enough she could hear his breathing, uneven and tight. "That mark isn't decoration. It's a trigger."

"Then why'd your father carve it into his own apartment door?"

"I don't know. I was eight when he disappeared." His voice went flat. "Turn the knob and we'll both find out."

Mara twisted it anyway.

The door swung open onto nothing.

Not an empty room. Nothing. The threshold dropped into a slice of void so black her eyes couldn't adjust. Cold air poured out, sharp enough to sting her throat.

"Back up," Adrian snapped. He grabbed her jacket and yanked her away from the edge. "Back up, now."

She stumbled into him. His other hand caught her shoulder, steadying her, and for half a second she felt the hammer of his pulse through his palm. Fast. Furious.

"What the hell is that?" she said.