Chapter 7 · The Bar That Turned Black

The tracker's still warm when I push through the subway turnstile.

Three a.m. Platform's empty except for a kid in a green apron, Dead Man's Brew logo stitched crooked over his chest. Marco. Hired him two weeks ago because he showed up on time and didn't ask why we never close.

He's standing too close to the edge.

"Marco."

He doesn't turn. Just sways a little, staring down the tunnel like something's calling him from the dark.

I move fast. Grab his collar, yank him back three feet. He blinks. Looks at me like I just materialized.

"Boss?" His voice cracks. "What—"

The express screams past. Wind slaps us both. If I'd been two seconds slower, the EMTs would've been scraping him off the third rail.

My wrist burns.

The tracker flares white. The second bar from the bottom lights up, clean and bright. Debt 1,999 paid.

Then it flickers.

Goes black.

I stare at it. The bar's still there, but the light's gone wrong. Not empty. Not unpaid. Just... void. Like someone reached into the code and inverted the color.

"Boss, I—" Marco's looking at the coffee cup in his hand. My logo. Still steaming. "Where'd this come from?"