Chapter 15 · The Man the Clock Forgot

"Don't move."

Mara's gun was up before I processed the voice. Not hers. Thin, stretched, like someone had pulled it through broken glass.

The man on the platform was Carter Webb. Her missing partner. I knew that from the file photo she'd shoved in my face a week ago. Same jaw, same hairline, same scar through his left eyebrow.

But the eyes were wrong.

They didn't track right. They slid past Mara, past me, like he was looking at something behind the air itself.

"Carter?" Mara's voice cracked. She took a step forward, and I grabbed her wrist.

"That's not him."

"Let go of me."

"Look at his hands."

His fingers were twitching. Not nerves. Rhythm. Like he was counting something only he could see.

"Carter, it's me." Mara pulled free and moved closer. "It's Mara. We've been looking for you."

He blinked. Once. Slow.

"Mara," he said. "You shouldn't be here."

"Where the hell have you been?" Her gun was still up, but her voice was shaking. "Three weeks. No calls, no trace, nothing."

"Three weeks," he repeated. He smiled, and it was the worst thing I'd seen all night. "For you."

I stepped off the tram.