The rain fell in sheets across the cobblestone streets of Old Town, each droplet catching the amber glow of the streetlamps like scattered coins. Detective Maya Chen pulled her coat tighter as she stepped out of her patrol car, the familiar weight of her service weapon a comfort against her hip. Three years on the force had taught her to trust her instincts, and right now, every instinct screamed that something was wrong with this scene.The body lay sprawled beneath the ancient oak that had stood sentinel in Washington Square for over two centuries. What made Maya's blood run cold wasn't the sight of death—she'd seen plenty of that—but the impossible nature of what she was looking at. The victim, a middle-aged businessman still clutching his briefcase, appeared to have aged decades in moments. His hair had turned completely white, his skin deeply wrinkled, and his eyes held a look of absolute terror that seemed frozen in time.
The rain fell in sheets across the cobblestone streets of Old Town, each droplet catching the amber glow of the streetlamps like scattered coins. Detective Maya Chen pulled her coat tighter as she stepped out of her patrol car, the familiar weight of her service weapon a comfort against her hip. ...