Chapter 9 · My Face in the File

"Mark."

His own face stared back at him from the page.

"Mark, you hearing me?"

College ID photo. Three years old. That stupid haircut his roommate talked him into. The photo was clipped to a form with his full name typed across the top in block letters: CHEN, MARK ANDREW. Social security number below that. His mother's maiden name. Childhood address in Sacramento.

He flipped the page.

"What's in there?" Amy asked.

Summoning Record. Date, time, location down to GPS coordinates. The parking lot behind his apartment. 11:47 PM. He remembered that night. The circle burning into the asphalt. The pull that felt like his spine was coming unglued.

"Mark." Amy was standing now, halfway around the table. "You okay?"

He turned another page.

Physical Description. Height, weight, blood type. Distinguishing marks: small scar left eyebrow, birthmark right shoulder blade. Things you could see if you stripped someone down and catalogued them.

His hands started shaking.

Psychological Profile. Bullet points below:

- Risk-averse decision maker - Moderate social anxiety - Conflict avoidant - No prior leadership experience - Likely to comply under pressure

He read that last line twice.

"Mark, talk to me." Amy moved closer. "What's in there?"

"Me."