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A sunny day – July 2025
The little rare-and-antiques bookstore on St. Marks Place, between First and A, hadn’t changed its hanging sign in years. Sarah still smiled when she saw it. She stepped inside with a package wrapped in brown paper tucked under her arm.
Adrian Sloane looked up from behind the counter, an old book in hand. “You ever seen this one?” he asked. “It’s about a man who claims he can…”
Sarah didn’t listen. She cut him off, eyes bright. “It’s here. Finally. The Chronicon Obscura.”
Adrian chuckled. “Aah, of course. The… expensive… prize piece.”
“Only for display,” she said, rolling her eyes. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
She pulled out her phone and texted Evelyn: It’s here. Want to come see it? Bring that new boyfriend of yours.
This is not the man you are looking for
Sgt. Carter pulled the RMP to a stop at the corner of West 71st & Columbus.
“I need more coffee. You want anything?”
His partner looked up from the Mobile Data Terminal. “Iced coffee. Brown sugar. Oat milk. Cocoa drizzle on the whip.”
Carter stared at him for a beat too long.
“Message received. Coffee’s fine,” the partner said, clearing his throat.
“You sure? I can get all that with a silly straw and a little umbrella.”
Carter smirked and opened the door before the kid could respond. The heat hit him like a slap to the face. The ballistic vest stuck to his back, reminding him to take the job seriously. But today, he’d rather leave that reminder in his locker.
“Two black coffees,” he said. “And one of those vatrushkas.”
As the barista nodded, Carter looked around and muttered, mostly to himself,
“Might bring Jen here this weekend. She’d like it.”
Carter picked up his order at the end of the counter. When he turned to leave, the barista called out, “Cappuccino for Everett? Everett?”
Carter bumped shoulders with the man reaching for it.
“Hey! Watch it, buddy. Hot coffee,” Carter said, smirking.
The man, early forties, wearing a rumpled shirt, frazzled hair, looked up from his phone. “Sorry. Wasn’t paying attention. My bad.”
Carter squinted. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
Everett shook his head politely. “Don’t think so.” He took the cappuccino and stepped outside.
On the sidewalk, he paused. A full pie lay upside-down on the curb. “Nice,” he muttered with a smile, and slid on his headphones. The first notes of Egyptian Reggae played as he vanished into the crowd.
Beware the watchers in July
Fifteen stories up, Veldrik stood at the edge of a rooftop, watching the street below.
The Counterpart strolled up and sat on the ledge. “Almost had him this time,” he said, grinning.
Veldrik didn’t look away. “Almost.” He reached into his coat, pulled out the fully assembled artifact, and held it in one hand. It shimmered softly.
“Let’s call this iteration twelve. Maybe this one will be fun.”
Curious? Need a refresher? Start at the beginning here, review the investigation so far here, or consult the Table of Contents. Find companion pieces, further exploration, chronology, and field notes in the Behind the Frame section.