The idea struck Michael Co at exactly three forty-two in the morning.
He sat upright in bed so suddenly that Marnie gasped, jolted awake by the movement. Her heart raced for a second before she turned toward him, eyes half-lidded with sleep.
“Michael?” she murmured. “What’s wrong?”
His breathing was controlled but sharp, his eyes fixed on the dark ceiling as if he had just seen a vision only he could understand.
“They walked,” he said quietly.
Marnie blinked, then smiled faintly despite her exhaustion. “Yes… yesterday afternoon. You were there.”
“They walked,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “Which means everything has changed.”
She propped herself up on one elbow. “Michael, it’s three in the morning.”
“That’s exactly why it’s dangerous,” he replied seriously.
She sighed. “Wha
