The History Book
Chapter One
Saturday, 2:10 a.m., Eastern Daylight Time
Kat, you there? What do you see?"
She touches her earpiece. Streetlights cast a skittish beam into the
room that has the feel of a ghost town. A sick feeling sweeps
through Kat, like a cold mist spreading through her limbs from the
center of her chest.
She had gone through a night like this before and come out with the
chemical tastes of a mortuary in her mouth and memories that clung
to her like thorns.
In the silence, just past two in the morning, she stands inside the
doorway of the second-floor, open-plan office and looks at each of
the six desks, taking in family pictures, coffee cups, computer
monitors; no drawers or filing cabinets open; no papers strewn
about; no desks disturbed; nothing smashed or strewn on the floor.
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