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Chapter 1
Chapter One: The Note
Rain taps my face like insistent fingers. I open my eyes to the sharp neon of a noodle shop sign, its reflection rippling in puddles that smell like oil. My head feels hollowed out. There’s a taste of pennies at the back of my throat. I am on my back, in an alley, with a torn coat and a bruise that blooms when I try to sit.
I check pockets because that’s what my hands want. There’s a small folding knife, a folded piece of paper, a vending receipt. The paper is damp but legible: “Stop the broadcast or everyone dies.”
The words don’t hit like a joke or a scam. They land with the weight of an order already issued.
My breath comes fast. I scan the alley: closed back doors, trash bags, the faint hum of a generator. A taxi passes at the mouth of the alley, spraying rain. I stand and nearly black out, and that’s when I realize the clock in my head is running even though almost everything else is not.
I thumb the receipt. 19:03. Printed barely an hour ago. The address is three blocks from here.
Something bumps in my peripheral vision. My body turns before my thought does. I catch the shape—my grip shifts, thumb finding a groove on the knife I didn’t know I liked. A drunk topples a trash can and mumbles an apology to the rain.
The knife disappears into my sleeve. Instinct hums like a live wire under skin. I can move. I can fight. I cannot remember my name.
The note crinkles in my fist. I tuck it into my bra and step into the street.
