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"Hands on the counter."
I didn't turn around. The voice came from behind me, low and steady, the kind that meant the gun was already out.
"Wrong apartment," I said.
"Hands. Counter. Now."
I put my palms flat on the kitchen tile. Cold bit through my skin. The coffee I'd just poured was still steaming next to my phone.
"Jace Mercer?" she said.
"Depends who's asking."
"City investigator. Mara Vance. Turn around slow."
I turned. She stood in the doorway, badge clipped to her belt, gun aimed at my chest. Dark hair pulled back tight. Sharp jaw. Eyes that didn't blink much. She looked like she'd been awake longer than I had.
"Door was unlocked," she said.
"So you just walked in."
"Warrant says I can." She pulled a folded paper from her jacket pocket and tossed it onto the counter. It landed next to my coffee. "You're wanted for questioning in connection with four missing persons. Last seen near the transit tunnels. Ring any bells?"
"No."
"Funny. Your repo van was logged at three of the sites."
"I drive all over the city. That's the job."
"At 12:07?"
My chest went tight. I kept my face flat.
"What's special about 12:07?" I said.
"You tell me." She stepped closer. The gun didn't waver. "Four people gone. No bodies. No blood. Just your van on the traffic cams, same time every night. You want to explain that?"
"I work nights. Lots of people work nights."
"Not lots of people show up right before someone disappears."
I glanced at the warrant. City seal. Her signature. A list of names I didn't recognize. And a photo.
Gray sedan. Tunnel mouth. Time stamp: 12:09.
That was my van.
"This doesn't mean anything," I said.
"Sure it does." She tilted her head. "Means you were there. Means you saw something. Or you did something."
"I didn't."
"Then you won't mind coming downtown."
"I've got a shift in two hours."
"Cancel it."
"Can't."
"You don't have a choice."
I looked at her. Really looked. The line of her shoulders was tight. Her jaw was set, but her eyes kept flicking to the window behind me. She wasn't just here for me. She was here because she was running out of time.
"Who'd you lose?" I said.
Her finger shifted on the trigger. Not much. Just enough.
"What?"
"You're not here because of some missing persons case. You're here because someone you know didn't come back."
Her mouth thinned. "That's not your business."
"It is if you're pointing a gun at me because of it."
She didn't answer. But she didn't lower the gun either.
"Let me guess," I said. "Partner? Friend? Someone who went into the tunnels and didn't come out?"
"Shut up."
"And now you've got a file full of names and no leads, so you're shaking down anyone who was in the area. That about right?"
"I said shut up."
I leaned back against the counter. Kept my hands where she could see them.
"What was his name?" I said.
Her jaw tightened. "Rafe Calloway. My partner. He went into Tunnel Six three nights ago. He called in a tip about someone moving cargo after midnight. Then his radio went dead."
"And you think I took him."
"I think you know where he is."
"I don't."
"Then why do you look like you haven't slept in a week?"
I didn't answer that. Couldn't.
She took another step forward. Close enough now that I could see the faint scar along her knuckles. Close enough that the barrel of her gun was less than two feet from my ribs.
"Here's how this works," she said. "You come with me. You answer my questions. You tell me what you saw in those tunnels. And maybe, if you're lucky, I don't put you in a cell and forget about you."
"Or?"
"Or I drag you out in cuffs and your sister finds out you're gone when the auction notice hits her door."
Everything in me went cold.
"What did you just say?"
"Lily Mercer. Age fourteen. Debt load eighteen thousand credits. Auction date pending." Mara's voice didn't change. "That's your sister, right? The one you're working three shifts to keep out of the market?"
My hands curled into fists. "You don't touch her."
"I don't have to. The city does that all on its own. But if you're sitting in holding, who's making the payments?"
I stared at her. She stared back.
"You're bluffing," I said.
"Am I?" She reached into her jacket again. Pulled out another photo. Slid it across the counter.
Lily. Standing outside our building. Backpack over one shoulder. Headphones in.
Time stamp: 7:42 AM.
Tomorrow.
I looked up at Mara. "That's not possible."
"Why not?"
"Because it's dated tomorrow."
"Is it?" She leaned in. Close enough now that I could smell the faint tang of gun oil and old coffee on her jacket. "Or did you just forget what day it is?"
My mouth went dry. The reset. She didn't know. She couldn't know. But the photo—
"Where did you get this?" I said.
"Surveillance archive. Pulled it an hour ago."
"That's not possible."
"You keep saying that." Her eyes narrowed. "What do you know about the reset, Jace?"
I froze.
She saw it. I saw her see it.
"There it is," she said softly. "You do know something."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes, you do." She stepped even closer. The gun was almost touching my chest now. "Rafe's last message said something about a loop. About the same hour happening twice. I thought he was losing it. But you just looked at that photo like it was a ghost."
"I didn't—"
"Don't lie to me." Her voice dropped. "Tell me what the reset is. Tell me how it works. Tell me how to find my partner."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because if I tell you, you're going to end up just like him."
Silence.
Mara's hand didn't move. But something shifted in her eyes. Not fear. Calculation.
"So you do know," she said.
I didn't answer.
She pulled back. Just a step. Just enough to give me room to breathe. But the gun stayed up.
"Here's the deal," she said. "You're coming with me. Not to holding. Not downtown. To Tunnel Six. Right now."
"No."
"Yes."
"I've got a sister to—"
"Your sister's name is on my list." Mara's voice went flat. "Fourth page. Right under Rafe's. The archive flagged her because she was in the same frame as you. Same time stamp. Same location."
She pulled out the file. Flipped it open. Turned it so I could see.
There it was. Lily's photo. Full page. Transit tunnel entrance. Time: 12:09.
Tomorrow night.
"She's going to be there," Mara said. "And if you don't help me figure out what's happening in those tunnels, she's going to disappear just like everyone else."
I stared at the photo. At Lily's face. At the time stamp that hadn't happened yet.
"How do you have this?" I said.
"I don't know." Mara's jaw tightened. "The system says it pulled from live archive. But the date's wrong. Unless it's not."
She lowered the gun. Just a fraction.
"You know what's happening," she said. "And I need you to tell me. Right now. Before someone else goes missing."
I looked at her. At the file. At Lily's face staring back at me from a photo that shouldn't exist.
"If I tell you," I said, "you're not going to believe me."
"Try me."
I opened my mouth.
And my phone rang.
The screen lit up. Unknown number. But the caller ID—
Rafe Calloway.
Mara saw it. Her face went white.
"That's not possible," she whispered.
I picked up the phone. Put it on speaker.
Static. Then a voice. Low. Crackling.
"Jace Mercer."
Not Rafe's voice. Someone else. Older. Colder.
"Who is this?" I said.
"You already know. You've heard me before. Every night at 12:07."
Mara's hand went to her gun again. But she didn't raise it. She just stared at the phone.
"What do you want?" I said.
The voice laughed. Soft. Wrong.
"I want you to stop looking. Both of you. Or the girl's next."
The line went dead.
Mara looked at me. I looked at the file.
At Lily's photo. At the time stamp.
Tomorrow. 12:09.
One hour and two minutes after the reset.