<Part 1> The handcuffs clicked around my wrists with a cold, metallic bite before I could even open my mouth to explain. It…
Part 1 The smell of New York City at 5:30 a.m. is a specific kind of perfume—rotten coffee grounds, wet cardboard, and yesterday’s…
PART 1 The marble floor of the Pentagon’s E-Ring is unforgiving. It amplifies everything—the click of heels, the squeak of polished leather, and…
The wind off Lake Michigan has teeth. It doesn’t just blow; it cuts. It finds every rip in your clothing, every thin spot…
A man with a clipboard and a tight smile was sweeping the entrance with his eyes. He hadn’t seen me. Not yet. I…
My gaze was fixed forward, locked on the gray plastic tub waiting for my shoes. But I wasn’t seeing it. I was seeing…
The crowd didn’t understand. They saw ten men, different ages, different races, dressed in civilian clothes—polos, jeans, button-downs. But I saw them. I…
I’ve never believed in ghosts. But the dead don’t need to walk to haunt you. They just wait. They wait in the smell…
I just wanted peace. That’s all. A few minutes where the world wasn’t screaming at me, where the ghosts in my head would…
I saw the shift. The panic in Marcus Thorne’s eyes didn’t just vanish. It solidified. It turned from a hot, frantic fear into…