Washington D.C. 11:47 PM
Rain hit the windshield. Claire Morgan didn’t blink.
“D.C. Apartment. Dinner table set for two. One missing,” the voice on the phone repeated. “Wall says the same thing. The hunger is not over.”
She hung up. Berlin was 6 hours behind her. The 9 plates were still burning in her head.
The apartment was on the 4th floor. No signs of break-in.
Inside: warm light. Smell of cooked pasta.
Two places set. White plates. Cloth napkins.
One chair pushed in. One chair pulled out.
And on the wall above the table, deep scratches in the plaster:
THE HUNGER IS NOT OVER.
“Victim’s name is Laura Reed,” the detective said. “28. Last seen by her brother at midnight.”
The brother was sitting at the kitchen counter. Hands wrapped around a cold coffee mug.
Daniel Reed. 28. Pale. Eyes red.
“Where were you when she disappeared?” Claire asked.
“I... I don’t know,” Daniel said. “I take sleeping pills. I woke up and she was gone. The table was like this.”
Claire walked to the table. The empty plate was spotless. Too spotless.
She lifted the napkin under it.
Folded inside: a small key. Old. Brass. With a tag: B.P.H. - Storage 9
Berlin Psychiatric Hospital.
Storage Room 9.
Her stomach dropped.
“You said you have sleep issues?” Claire asked, turning to Daniel.
“Parasomnia,” he said quietly. “I sleepwalk. I cook. I don’t remember. My sister used to lock the kitchen at night.”
Claire pulled out her phone. Brought up the photo she took 12 hours ago in Berlin.
Nine plates. Nine chairs.
She held it up next to the D.C. table.
Same plates. Same pattern on the china.
Only difference: Berlin had 9. Washington had 2.
9 + 2 = 11.
But there was space for 10.
Claire looked down.
On the floor, under the table, were scuff marks.
Like a chair had been dragged in... and then out again.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Berlin:
_We checked Storage 9. Empty. Except for one thing.
A guest list. 10 names. 9 are crossed out.
The 10th name: DANIEL REED._
Claire looked up at Daniel.
He was staring at the empty chair.
And he was smiling. Just a little.
“I think,” Daniel whispered, “dinner’s almost ready.”