Hollowbridge Precinct – 7:02 AM
Reed never liked hospitals. The sterile white of the walls, the antiseptic aroma that never quite covered the odor of blood, the perpetual buzzing of fluorescent lights—none of it felt actual. It was a place life and death converged, and he was starting to feel like he was balancing precariously between them.
He stood at the lockers of cold storage in the back of the morgue, staring down at Evelyn Crane's photos. The burn scars on her wrist were etched into his brain, the pain in her eyes still evident despite the morgue's gray light.
Malone was on the phone with the lab technicians, but Reed barely heard her. He was focused on the file in his hand. There was something about the way Evelyn had been left behind, something that shouted at him.
Someone was playing games.
And in this game, people died.
He turned as the door to the morgue opened once more.
"Avery Locke is going to be trouble," Malone said, her voice low. "She's too involved."
Reed didn't look at her. "She's not the killer."
"She's hiding something. I can see it in her eyes."
"And what about the killer?" Reed asked, his voice low. "Who's hiding behind this cloak of riddles and fires?"
Malone's silence was answer enough. Reed pushed the file aside, suddenly with the feeling that something was about to break.
***
Avery's Apartment – 7:58 AM
Avery couldn't stay still. She paced the length of her small apartment, trying to shake the sense that she was slipping into something much more sinister than she ever intended to find.
The last message hadn't been like the others. This wasn't a game. This was an ultimatum.
A soft, slow knock on the door brought her back to reality.
She hesitated, then went to the door, peering through the peephole. There was no one there, but the scent of cigarette smoke hung in the air, borne like the ghostly echo of something past.
Her hand froze on the doorknob.
She hadn't even opened it when her phone rang again. The message was already waiting for her:
" I'm nearer than you suppose. And I always look for the shape behind your responses."
She swallowed hard.
The door groaned open as she stepped back.
The only thing waiting outside was the void.
***
Morning light had begun creeping over Hollowbridge, a town that never quite learned to thaw. Its streets, perpetually damp with the persistent drizzle, appeared to recoil even from the threat of a gentle sun. For Avery Locke, however, the light seeping in through her blinds was colder than the rain.
She stood in her own kitchen, tracing with her fingers the rim of a long-cold cup. The letter from the unknown sender had wounded her deeply, and with it, the dark question: Who was watching her?
The knock on her door was too soft to be from a police officer. Not a delivery person. Not a neighbor. She knew who it must be.
Avery turned to the door, breath deep. She hadn't expected Reed to show up, not after yesterday, but she couldn't help noticing that his question was wrapping itself too tightly around her, like a thread tugged too tightly.
The knocking came again, louder this time.
Taking a calm breath, Avery moved towards the door, the beat thrumming against her neck.
As she opened it, a Reed intensity assaulted her. His eyes were lidded, dark beneath the weight of something unuttered. He sported his usual black jacket, a determined silence on his expression that Avery's throat involuntarily closed at. There was something else, though—something she didn't expect.
"Reed." Her voice caught in her chest.
His eyes glanced over her shoulder, assessing her apartment. "May I come in?"
She stepped aside, the air thick with the unspoken understanding that neither of them wanted to tell the other what they did want to tell each other. Reed had been there yesterday, but today was different.
Avery closed the door quietly behind him, and then the silence yelled.
"What happened?" she demanded, her voice slightly shaking even as she attempted to maintain its stability.
Reed paused before speaking, his jaw clenched in anger. "Another victim. Identical to the first. The riddle's been left behind."
Avery shivered at the news that had nothing to do with the coldness of the early morning air. She had anticipated this. She'd known that it was going to happen. But hearing the words spoken made the reality feel more sharp. More real.
"Who was it this time?" she asked, already steeling herself for the answer.
"Lillian Green," he told her, his gaze flicking to hers. "A schoolteacher, just like Evelyn. Same method, same problem. The burn on her wrist—"
"Fire," Avery panted, finishing his sentence.
The answer's always fire.
Reed's nod. "You said something yesterday—something about your sister. You said the last riddle Alina cracked was about fire."
Avery turned her head, her throat tightening. She wasn't ready to return there—not yet. Not with Reed, not with anyone.
But Reed didn't turn his head. His eyes remained locked on hers, piercing, as if trying to break through the walls she had built around herself.
"I know this is tough," he spoke softly. "But we must talk about it. If this killer is seeding clues that refer to your history, then—"
"Then I'm involved," Avery finished, her voice a fragile, hard edge. She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling the acrid sting of memories that had been buried for years. "I didn't ask for this, Reed. I didn't ask for any of this."
"No one does," he answered, his voice lowering. "But we need to know who's doing it, and why. Your sister's disappearance—it's all part of the equation. I'm not asking you to rehash everything, but I want the truth."
Avery's eyes ached, the weight of her own silence crushing her chest. "You don't get it," she breathed. "Alina's case was never broken. I've been searching for answers for years, and whenever I get near, it slips away from me. My father. he didn't leave me much, but what he did leave." She shook her head. "It's like a curse."
Reed moved closer, his expression softening. "Avery."
Her heart pounded in her ears. She had never told anyone the truth about what happened that night. About her sister vanishing. About the puzzle Alina solved before she vanished.
The dead don't talk. They just whisper when they're heard.
"I didn't lose my sister in an accident, Reed," she said to him, her words weighed with unsaid grief. "She wasn't stolen. She was kidnapped."
Reed gazed at her, the comprehension settling in on him like a storm. "You think the same man who kidnapped her is also behind these killings."
Avery nodded uncertainly. "I know it."
***
Hollowbridge City – 9:30 AM
Reed was always the action type, but today he felt the weight of doubt more than ever. Avery had revealed more than he'd expected, but it wasn't sufficient. Not yet.".
There were still too many questions. Too many riddles left unexplained.
But the truth was undeniable: Avery was a part of this—one way or another.
As Reed stood and made his way to the precinct, his mind was on the victims. They were all connected. Evelyn. Lillian. And, in some form, Avery.
A voice he recognized stopped him in his tracks as he entered the precinct. It was Detective Malone, her expression hard as she approached him.
"Anything?" she breathed, not wanting someone else to hear her.
"More victims," Reed replied. "Same M.O."
Malone nodded. "The riddles… they're not like before."
Reed's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"Look at this." Malone handed him a printout, her hand faltering on the paper. The words on the page were familiar, but not in the way he expected.
The answer is not to be found in the brain, but in the flame. What is the nature of that which burns, and what is the price of the answer?"
Reed scrunched up his face as he read through it. "This doesn't work. It's a different sort of riddle."
Malone nodded. "It's not a riddle—it's a challenge. A warning."
"A warning?" Reed's voice was tight. "Of something?
"Look at the other one," Malone whispered, her voice dropping. "It was left on Lillian Green's body. The riddle is just the beginning."
Reed's head spun as he read the rest of the message.
"The truth is burned when the puzzle is solved. But what burns brightest kills everything. What is the price of your curiosity?"
He jerked his head up. "This is different. It's not a message anymore—it's a threat."
Malone's eyes were unreadable. "It's more than that, Reed. Somebody is pushing us to the edge. And I think Avery Locke has the key."
***
Avery's Apartment – 10:30 AM
Avery sat at her desk, shaking hands as she stared at the page before her. Her father's notebook lay open, a reminder of a memory she would have preferred to delete. The riddles that once seemed so innocuous now held a weight she could not shake.
The phone vibrated, shattering the train of thought. She glared at the screen, her heart leaping at what she read there:
"The price of curiosity is a hell of a lot higher than you think, Avery. If you keep searching, you won't like what you find."
Her breath caught in her throat.
The hairs at the back of her neck stood on end.
She was not alone.