Chapter 312: A Moment Before
We had twenty-eight hours left by the time I got back home.
That was the number that pulsed at the back of my skull as I stood in the shower, water pounding down on scarred shoulders, the steam ghosting off the tiles in thin, curling trails. The water was hot enough to burn, but I needed it. I felt like the blood of the pale man wasn’t leaving my hands. I needed the band around my wrist more than I thought.
Either way, it was twenty-eight hours until the clock hit zero. Until the families died. Until Hyena either got what he wanted, or we stopped him.
I turned off the water, the pipes groaning like old bones, and stepped out, letting the steam roll out into the hallway like a phantom. My mask hung on the doorknob, the cracked mirror above the sink showing a man I barely recognized.
Tired eyes. Jaw shadowed with stubble I hadn’t bothered to shave. Very small scars from every fight and incident I’ve had peeking through under damp hair. My reflection looked back at me, as if asking:
Are you sure?
I didn’t have the luxury of uncertainty anymore.
I took the mask off the doorknob.
The apartment was quiet when I stepped out, the city beyond the windows a smear of orange and gray dawn, the sky bruised by clouds that promised rain again. I moved softly, boots against the old wood floors, the boards creaking under my weight.
The living room smelled like vanilla and lemon cleaner, Sienna’s touch, a reminder that some things still tried to be normal even when the world refused to cooperate.
Evelyn was sitting cross-legged on the floor near the window, her blindfold on, face tilted toward the faint warmth of the sun coming through the glass. She didn’t move when I entered, but I felt her attention, like a sonar ping in the quiet.