Kade didn’t sleep that night.
Not because of the danger — he’d gotten used to that by now — but because the silence wasn’t silent anymore. It pulsed. Every few seconds, there was a low vibration in the air, like someone plucking invisible strings around his skull.
The Drag wasn’t dormant. It was breathing.
He sat against the cold wall of the abandoned train station, staring at the clocks that lined the walls. None of them ticked. None of them matched. One read 11:37, another 2:04, another had no hands at all.
But the strangest one kept changing every time he blinked.
11:37. 11:38. 11:39.
Then, without warning — 11:37 again.
The same time that child-Echo had whispered about.
“You left a version of you behind at that time.”
What the hell did that mean?
---
Asha stirred beside him,
