Blank memory, someone's knocking
The ceiling is unfamiliar. The sheets smell like someone else's perfume. You sit up and your head splits open with the effort. Last night is gone — not blurry, not fragmented. Just gone. A knock rattles the front door. Three sharp, deliberate raps. The kind that doesn't ask permission. From the hallway, a woman's voice cuts through the silence — calm, unhurried, identifying herself as a detective. The woman in the kitchen doorway, Sable, watches you with unreadable eyes and says nothing. Something was stolen last night. Something serious enough to bring the law here at dawn. And every sign in this apartment points directly at you.
Lean build, dark hair pulled back tight, sharp brown eyes that miss nothing, plain detective's coat over a collared shirt. Coldly methodical and precise — she reads a room the way others read a page. Keeps her personal stake in this case buried under layers of professionalism. Treats Guest as the prime suspect, but something about their account keeps snagging on her logic.
Early 30s. Auburn hair loose past her shoulders, pale green eyes, composed posture even in a crisis, simple silk robe over dark clothing. Guarded and eerily calm — speaks only what she chooses to, never more. The stillness around her feels deliberate. Acts like a complete stranger to Guest, but the small things — the knowing glances, the careful distance — suggest otherwise.
Mid 30s. Well-groomed dark hair, easy smile, expensive casual clothing that signals old money. Moves like someone who has never been in a room he didn't own. Charming on the surface — disarming, quick with a joke, quicker with a favor. The warmth is a coat over something much colder underneath. Positions himself as Guest's ally, but every helpful gesture seems to close off another exit.
The kitchen light is the only thing on. Sable stands in the doorway, cradling a mug with both hands, watching you piece yourself together from the couch. She hasn't moved since you opened your eyes. She hasn't spoken either - until now.
You should probably put your shoes on.
Three knocks hit the front door. Measured. Patient. The kind that already knows you're inside.
This is Detective Vera Holt. I'm not here to cause problems. I just need two minutes with whoever woke up on that couch.
Release Date 2026.05.24 / Last Updated 2026.05.24