Violet Games

The city looked smaller from the fourth floor.

Not physically. The buildings still scraped the sky and the traffic still clogged every street beneath him. But distance had a way of making things feel less urgent than they were. Ethan stood beside the office window, one hand tucked into his pocket. The glass reflected a tired version of himself back at him. A face that looked older than it should have.

Below, thousands of people moved through their routines. Walking. Working. Laughing. Arguing.

He found himself watching a woman crossing the street. Shopping bag in one hand, phone in the other. A young man emerged from the crowd fast and deliberate, snatched the bag from her grasp and shoved her backward. She stumbled onto the pavement. The thief disappeared before anyone reacted. People gathered around her. Some pointed. Some shouted. One called for help.

Ethan didn't move. His expression didn't change.

The woman stood up. The crowd carried on. The world kept moving the way it always did.

A knock sounded behind him.

"You're doing it again, Ethan."

He didn't turn around. The office door opened anyway.

His partner stepped inside carrying a dark folder beneath his arm. Unlike Ethan, his partner always looked awake, always looked present, always looked ready to punch a hole through whatever problem stood in front of him.

"You know, Ethan." His partner tossed the folder onto the desk. "Most people stare out windows while they're thinking."

Ethan finally glanced over. "And?"

"You stare out windows like you're attending a funeral."

A faint smile almost appeared on Ethan's face. Almost.

His partner pulled a chair over and sat down. "The target checklist." He tapped the folder. "Everything we have on the companies."

Ethan walked toward the desk and opened it. Client records, financial statements, transaction histories, employee rosters, internal audit summaries. Officially they were accountants reviewing suspicious corporate activity. Unofficially they were investigating something much larger. Something that had already consumed months of their lives.

He opened the first page. Several company names were highlighted. Three executives. Two shell corporations. One missing employee. His eyes narrowed.

His partner leaned back. "Anything interesting?"

Ethan stared at a specific line of text. A transaction. A date. An account number. Then slowly closed the file. "I don't know, Damien."

Damien studied his face for a moment. "You seem to know something. You just don't want to say it."

Ethan turned back toward the window. "Six months," he said quietly. "I've been chasing him for six months."

"You say something?"

Ethan looked at him. "You have a date with your girlfriend in an hour."

Damien froze. "What?"

"You remembered every transaction from the last three weeks. But somehow forgot the one thing you were actually looking forward to."

Damien's eyes widened. "Shoot. I completely forgot." He grabbed his coat fast. "Thanks for the reminder." Before leaving, he pulled a folded slip of paper from his pocket and placed it on the desk. "Do me a favor. Pick up these things from the wholesale market on your way home." He was already halfway through the door. "And stop staring outside. We have work to do."

The door shut behind him.

The office fell quiet.

Ethan's gaze drifted back to the city. He reached into his wallet and took out a photograph. Him and a woman, standing together. He looked at it for a moment.

"Diana."

There had been a time when smiling felt effortless. A time before all of this. Before six months of reports and witness statements and dead ends.

He slipped the photograph back into his wallet, grabbed Damien's note from the desk and headed for the exit.

Outside, Los Angeles carried on as usual. Traffic crawled through intersections. People argued over phone calls. Street vendors shouted at passing pedestrians. Nobody noticed him. Why would they? A man in a button-up shirt carrying office supplies rarely attracted attention. That was one of the perks of being ordinary.

He walked several blocks before stopping near a utility pole. A piece of paper fluttered against the metal. Most people walked past it.

Ethan didn't.

MISSING PERSON

Amelia Watson, 27

Last Seen: Westlake District

Date Missing: October 12

The photograph showed a woman smiling into the camera. The kind of smile taken before something went wrong. Ethan looked at it for a few seconds.

"Today's the 15th."

He continued walking. The sky above had gone gray, dark at the edges. The wholesale market was crowded but he worked through Damien's list without trouble.

Folders. Receipt rolls. Printer cartridges. Storage drives. Pens.

At the bottom of the note sat one final item.

Chocolate :)

Ethan smiled and shook his head.

"Idiot."

Within an hour he was home. The apartment greeted him with silence. He put the supplies on the kitchen counter, dropped his keys beside them, and walked straight to the bedroom. No shower, no dinner, no changing clothes. He fell onto the bed. The mattress creaked beneath him. His eyes settled on the ceiling.

"Six months. Six months of reports. Witness statements, false leads, missing names." He stared at the ceiling. "This never ends."

His phone vibrated.

He glanced at the screen. "Damien."

He answered. "What?"

"Ethan." Something in Damien's voice was wrong immediately. Not panic. Something quieter than that. "What happened?" Ethan said.

A brief silence. Then, "Get over to East 7th Street."

"Why?"

Another pause. When Damien finally answered his voice was lower.

"Nathan. There's something you need to see for yourself."

The call ended.

Ethan stared at the ceiling for a moment longer. Then got up.