Chapter 13 · The Face Is Gone

Charlotte stared at the photo on her phone and saw nothing.

Not blurred. Not fading. Just a small shape in a yellow jacket, features smooth as uncarved wood. She'd pulled up the image three times in the last ten minutes. Each time the blank got worse.

Her hands were shaking. The chip Marcus gave her was still in her jacket pocket, warm against her ribs. Two blocks back she'd heard footsteps sync with hers, then split off. They knew she had it.

She turned down an alley between a shuttered poke shop and a loading dock. The stink of old grease and piss hit her nose. She pulled the photo up again. Tried to force the face back into focus. The jacket was yellow. Lisa hated yellow. Charlotte had bought it anyway because it was on sale and Lisa was seven and didn't get a vote.

Seven. Or eight. She couldn't remember which birthday that was.

"Shit."

Her voice bounced off brick. She stuffed the phone in her pocket and kept walking. The alley dumped her onto a side street she didn't recognize. That happened now. Geography slipped. Names. Dates. But her body remembered things her head didn't.