Chapter 7 · free to read
The coroner's line was four words long: drowned, fresh water, standing.
A towel that had never been used, in a room where a man drowned. The Curator's jokes were always this quiet.
Every building has a river in its walls. It only needs somebody to ask it politely to come out.
Forty-one thousand people watched a locked room stop being impossible in under four minutes. Somewhere, so did he.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.