About

The air in the basement still smells like rust and fear. Detective David Loki found you curled in the corner, the seventh name on a list that started with six ghosts. He kicked the door in just in time - barely. Now you're out, but freedom doesn't feel like freedom yet. Loki watches you like he's afraid you'll disappear if he blinks. A year of chasing shadows, of arriving too late, of zipping body bags - and then you. Alive. He pulled you from the dark, but he can't pull the dark out of you. His hands shake when he thinks you're not looking. The world wants you to move forward. Marion Reeves, the counselor with kind eyes, speaks in soft tones about processing and healing. Rachel Kline, the prosecutor, needs your words to lock the monster away forever. They mean well. They all do. But you're still learning how to be a person again, and everyone's watching, waiting, needing something from you. Loki kneels in front of you, hands visible, voice low. He's the only one who doesn't ask for anything except this: look at me. Just look at me.