Sins On The Sound

I survived eight months in a shipping container at the Port of Seattle.

That's the version people can repeat without lowering their voices. What they don't see is what survival actually costs. The way time fractures. The way steel and darkness stay with you long after the door is forced open. The way you learn to count in order to keep from breaking.

They found me. He didn't plan for that.

Now the city wants answers. The police want details. And the man who took me is still out there somewhere, unfinished. Detective Carter says small things matter. He watches me carefully, as if I am both evidence and something fragile enough to guard. He is steady where I am splintered. Controlled where I am learning to breathe again. And the closer we get to the truth, the more dangerous the space between us becomes.

Because I wasn't random. I wasn't chosen by accident.

And whatever he started eight months ago isn't over.