Eric and his wife, Jasmine, had booked a table at a small Japanese restaurant on 21st Street. It was their fifth anniversary, but the first time they didn’t go for anything fancy. No extravagant dinners, no overpriced wine. Just this little pce where they first met.

  Eric adjusted his charcoal gray suit as they stepped inside. Jasmine, stunning in her favorite red gown and a delicate heart-shaped neckce, looped her arm through his.

  A host in a silken kimono greeted them with a bright smile. “Irasshaimase!” Jasmine flinched, her eyes darting through the golden glow of the paper nterns swaying above each table.

  The scent of fresh miso and sizzling teriyaki drifted from the open kitchen, mingling with the gentle hum of conversations and the ctter of chopsticks.

  They were led to a low table, where they sat cross-legged on zabuton cushions atop a woven tatami mat.

  “This brings back memories,” Jasmine said, a smile spreading across her face.

  “It’s like we were here yesterday,” Eric replied, holding her gaze.

  Jasmine pursed her lips, letting out a soft pop.

  “What’s wrong?” Eric asked as he reached his hand over the table, searching for hers.

  “Nothing,” she said quickly, then ced her fingers through his. “Did you have to make me feel old?”

  Eric smirked. “Then let’s pretend it really was yesterday.” He leaned in, whispering, “Maybe I’ll even steal a kiss like I did back then.”

  Jasmine chuckled, her eyes gleaming. “You sure? I spped you after that, remember?”

  “If that’s the price,” Eric replied, leaning even closer. Jasmine’s face turned red. It wasn’t like this was their first time, but she never felt comfortable doing it in public.

  Eric noticed the hesitation in her eyes and smiled. Instead of closing the distance, he pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. But as he pulled back, something outside the window caught his eye.

  A car.

  Not just any car. A bck sedan.

  Eric’s jaw tightened. It was the same model, the same tinted windows, and the same scratch near the driver’s door.

  The same one that picked David up near the murder scenes, or at least, it looked too simir for comfort.

  He kissed Jasmine’s forehead again and set his credit card on the table. “I’m sorry, love. Need to check something. I’ll be back.”

  Jasmine froze, her mind turning bnk. It was their anniversary. He had promised his work wouldn’t get in the way, yet it did. As soon as she snapped out of her daze and found a couple of words to stop him, she looked up, and he was already gone.

  Eric sprinted to his car, his phone buzzing in his pocket, but he didn’t bother to check who was calling or why. His entire focus was on tailing the sedan as it disappeared into the distance. His hands trembled as he jammed the key into the ignition, finally starting the engine. Calm down, Eric. Breathe. He steadied himself with a deep breath, then pulled out onto the road, eyes locked on his target.

  Ring. Ring.

  The phone vibrated again, but this time he answered without looking.

  “Sorry love, I...”

  “Chill Romeo.” Evelyn’s voice cut through.

  “Thank god, it’s you,” Eric exhaled, his voice carrying both relief and urgency. “Listen, I’m following that sedan; it’s heading toward Zone G...”

  “Where are you now? I’ll meet...”

  “No,” Eric snapped, then his tone softened. “No. I left my wife at the Japanese restaurant on 21st Street. Can you go get her? Make sure she gets home safe. It’s... it’s killing me, leaving her there.”

  Evelyn paused for a moment, then she spoke.

  “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid; keep your distance. Don’t be a hero, ok?”

  “Got it.”

  “How will I recognize your wife?”

  “She’s blond, wears gsses, and has on a red gown. About your height, give or take.”

  “Alright.”

  “Thank you.”

  Click.

  The bck sedan weaved through the bustling streets of Amber Height. It was 6 PM, and the roads were clogged with traffic as workers poured out of their offices, eager to get home.

  Eric followed three cars behind, his hands tightening on the steering wheel as he struggled to keep pace.

  He was losing sight of the target with every second as more cars cut between them. To steady his nerves, he fished out a cigarette, pcing it between his lips. But before he could light it, neon signs flickered against his windshield, the color shifting from green to yellow then red.

  And just like that, the sedan slipped through the intersection, leaving Eric stranded.

  “Unbelievable,” Eric muttered. He smmed his hand against the wheel, causing the cigarette to drop from his lips and singe his hand.

  He gnced to his left, ensuring the path was clear, and vaulted over the walkway. Pedestrians weren’t pleased, and they threw objects at him as they cursed and yelled. Instead of pursuing the sedan directly and risking detection by running a red light, he chose to intercept it further down the road, near the entrance to Zone G. It was a gamble; he could lose them, but he had no other choice.

  Veering left into a narrow alley.

  “Watch out, man!” A shout came from a group huddled near a garbage can, engrossed in a card game.

  Eric sped past them, shouting back, “I’m all in!” A hollow ugh trailed behind him as he vanished into the distance.

  He passed through an alley after another, his heart pounding, until he burst into an industrial zone. There, he spotted the sedan; its windows rolled down. Eric squinted in the hopes of catching a glimpse of a face or anything that could give them a lead. But what emerged wasn’t a face. It was the barrel of a machine gun, aimed directly at him.

  Eric’s breath caught. He ducked low, steering blindly as bullets ripped through the air, shattering gss around him. The world blurred as he swerved, narrowly dodging the hail of gunfire; until a deafening crash.

  He hadn’t seen the mppost. The impact surprised him, but he scrambled out of the car, pistol in hand, sprinting toward the nearest alley.

  The bullets kept coming as Eric plunged headfirst behind a dumpster.

  Inside the sedan,

  “You di...didn’t have to do this, Sammy,” said a skinny redhead barely eighteen, biting his nails.

  “Shut up,” Sammy snapped, shooting him a gre before switching his focus to Eric.

  “But...”

  “No buts, Tony... Man the fuck up.” Sammy paused, then barked. “Drive.”

  “Do you think he’s dead?” Tony asked, his voice trembling.

  “What matters is he’s not following us anymore,” Sammy replied, patting Tony’s back gently. “We’ll ditch this car and be done with it.”

  The sedan sped off, leaving Eric alone as the st light faded from the sky.

  Meanwhile, behind the dumpster, Eric clenched his jaw as he suddenly felt a pain in his stomach. He pressed a hand, feeling the warm seep of blood. His vision blurred as he gnced down to notice a crimson pool growing beneath him. He got hit; how many times, he couldn’t tell. Adrenaline had kept him moving, but now all he was left with was pain and regret.

  Gritting his teeth, he bent down and clenched the phone between them, tugging it from his pocket. Before he could dial, footsteps echoed nearby, growing louder.

  Back at the Japanese restaurant, the screech of tires shattered the quiet evening as a car halted near the entrance, its door flung open, and Evelyn stepped out.

  Without hesitation, she strode inside, her eyes scanning the room for Jasmine.

  At a corner table,

  “No, it’s not like that...” Nathan’s voice faltered as he noticed Evelyn, then he tilted his head toward Johan, gesturing with his chin. “Dude, that’s Evelyn.”

  Johan, sipping sake, turned to look. The moment his eyes met Evelyn, he choked, spitting it across the table and onto Nathan.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Nathan snapped, recoiling as he brushed the liquid off his shirt.

  “What the hell is wrong with you YOU?” Johan shot back, his voice dropped to a whisper. “That’s the perfect woman you were talking about?”

  Their argument faded into the background as Evelyn’s gaze locked onto a woman sitting alone. Evelyn approached her. “Hello, are you Jasmine?”

  The woman looked up, her eyes narrowing. “Yes?”

  “I’m Evelyn. Eric asked me to take you home,” she said, extending her hand, but Jasmine ignored it, pushing herself up from the chair with a grumble.

  “I can manage just fine,” Jasmine muttered, brushing past her.

  Evelyn followed her outside, her arms crossed.

  “I told you it’s fine,” Jasmine snapped, her voice rising.

  “Don’t mind me.”

  Jasmine spun around, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement. “Are you this clingy with my husband, too?”

  “I’m not...”

  “Then leave me the hell alone! Why are you so desperate to score points with him?”

  “Score points?” Evelyn said, her brow furrowing.

  “I don’t know. ‘I delivered her back home,’ or whatever snakes like you say,” Jasmine said as her eyes glistened, jabbing a finger into Evelyn’s chest.

  Evelyn’s expression softened. “Why are you like this? You should have some faith in your husband.”

  “Faith?” Jasmine’s voice cracked. “How can I, when he spends more time away than with me? How can I, when he had time to call you but not me, his wife, on our anniversary? He left me here, alone, while he’s off doing who knows what!”

  “He didn’t call me. I called him,” Evelyn said gently.

  “I called too, but he didn’t answer.”

  “He thought I was you. He cares about you, Jasmine. That’s why he sent me here.”

  Jasmine’s shoulders sank, her defiance crumbling as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “I understand your frustration, but let’s focus on him returning safely. After that, we can team up to make him hate work,” Evelyn said, her smile warm enough to make Jasmine’s knees wobble in her high heels.

  For a moment, Jasmine just stared at the pavement, her fingers gripping her arms as if holding herself together. The anger in her eyes dimmed, repced by something closer to exhaustion, then she muttered, “I’m sorry. I’m pathetic.”

  Evelyn stepped forward, wrapping Jasmine in a comforting hug. “You’re not pathetic. You’re hurting. Come on, let’s get you home.” She gestured toward the car.

  Meanwhile, in the dimly lit alley of the industrial zone,

  Eric dropped his phone, raising his pistol with trembling hands.

  Then, a figure emerged. Eric’s finger tightened on the trigger until he recognized the ragged clothes and scruffy beard.

  “Just a homeless...” Eric exhaled sharply, lowering the gun, and reached for his phone again. Scrolling through his contacts, Evelyn’s name appeared first on the list. Too exhausted to think, he tapped her number and put it on speaker, the phone resting on the ground beside him.

  Then a shadow loomed over him.

  “Hello detective, remember me?” the homeless said.

  “You’re Frankie? Can you help...”

  “Help?” Frankie interrupted, his smirk widening as he leveled a gun at Eric’s face. “Funny how things come full circle, huh? Another alley, another piss stop.”

  Eric’s heart pounded as he stared down the barrel. His phone buzzed with Evelyn’s voice. “Hello? Eric?”