White walls. The smell of antiseptic and death. 1918.
She lay on the bed, sheets soaked with sweat. His sister.
Her breathing was wet. Broken.
"Esmir... don't leave me..."
He stood in the doorway, frozen. A folder clutched to his chest.
Too late. Always too late.
"I'm sorry... I didn't make it in time..."
Her eyes closed.
The monitors flatlined.
BZZZT... 3: 12 AM
Esmir jolted awake. Sweat clung to his shirt.
3:17 AM. Dark. The house was silent.
The envelope from Cerin was still on the kitchen table. Unopened.
He didn't touch it. Not yet.
There was movement in the kitchen. Nerson. Chief Officer, Bureau of Investigation. Thirty years old. Tall. Six feet of quiet authority in a crisp uniform. The kind of man who walked into a room and people lowered their voices without knowing why. Handsome in a way that made you uneasy. Sharp jaw. Dark eyes that missed nothing. A thin scar cut through his left eyebrow. He never talked about it. smart.dedicated. ambitious. And dangerous. the Commissioner gave him the cases no one else wanted. the ones that ended in closed doors and sealed files. He was good at keeping secrets. Especially his own.
He was frying eggs.
Black coffee was already poured.
"Morning, Uncle," he said. His voice was low. Controlled.
Esmir sat down. The chair creaked.
"Commissioner again?"
"Yeah."
Nerson slid the mug across the table. " Black". Just how you like it."
Silence settled between them. Comfortable, but heavy.
Nerson's eyes flicked to the envelope on the table. Cerin's.
Then back to Esmir.
He said nothing.
Before he left, he paused at the door. Hands in his pockets.
"Be careful with that case, Uncle."
A beat.
"And with her."
"I will."
Nerson nodded once.
"I'm with you."
Then he was gone.
Leaving behind the smell of coffee and the weight of a man who could be your protector...
or your worst problem.
Esmir sat alone with cold coffee and a folder full of ghosts.
At 4:17 AM. Inside the car. Engine off.
Esmir dialed.
"Celiste? It's me. I'm on my way."
A pause.
"Doc? You're early."
"We need to talk about the 1918 files. And about the envelope Cerin's bringing."
Another pause. Then:
"I'm here, Doc."
He hung up.
YOU ARE READING
156 DAY ? - HORIZON
General Fiction156 DAYS? ( Part 1 ) Have you everbeen asking a questions? Or doubt on your whole life ? PREFACE: Nez suffered on his life when his family lie to him, sometimes he tries to kill his self to end whatever he takes... nez can be better? or he still...
