Chapter 1. Reflections
Her days were so alike that sometimes she thought she could shuffle them around and never notice the difference.
The alarm went off at six every morning. A shower. Black coffee with no sugar. A short walk to the subway. Then the agency office tucked between a travel bureau and an appliance store. To most people, it was just another consulting company. To its clients, however, it was a place where one could purchase a little luck, a fortunate coincidence, or even a chance to start life over.
She had worked there as an accountant for five years. She checked invoices, processed payments, and rarely cared what people were actually spending their money on. That was none of her business. Numbers were more honest than people—they never pretended to be something they weren’t.
That evening, she stayed later than usual.
A light rain drizzled beyond the windows, and the streets were slowly emptying. She didn’t feel like going home, so she stopped by a small café near the riverfront and ordered a lavender latte.
Settling by the window, she automatically pulled out her phone, only to put it away moments later.
Beyond the glass, the river stretched into the darkness. The wind had nearly died down, leaving the water smooth as a mirror.
She watched it without any particular reason. It was simply a way to rest her eyes after endless spreadsheets and reports.
At some point, it seemed to her that the city looked different in the reflection.
The same lights.
The same embankment.
Yet between the buildings rose slender towers that had never stood there before. They looked like needles carved from dark glass, piercing upward into the low clouds.
She frowned and leaned closer to the window.
The towers remained perfectly still.
And then she noticed something else.
Figures in long cloaks seemed to be walking along the water’s edge.
They existed only in the reflection.
A chill ran down her spine.
She blinked.
The river became ordinary again.
No towers. No strange silhouettes. Only rain, scattered streetlights, and black water flowing through the night.
For several seconds she continued staring outside, trying to understand what she had seen.
Then she laughed quietly at herself.
Exhaustion.
It had to be exhaustion.
Finishing her now-cold coffee, she rose from her seat and stepped out into the rain.
Behind her, on the river’s surface, the reflection of an unfamiliar city flickered for a brief moment before disappearing once more.
