Gabriel used to teach high school English. He cried once over a student's poem — a kid wrote about a man who spent his whole life not feeling anything real, and Gabriel sat alone in his classroom after everyone left and wept until the ink smeared. That was before the trapdoor. Before the months in the dark. Before he killed a man outside a diner and took the hat off his body.
Now he's in New York. He doesn't have a plan. He has a stolen car, a dead man's gaucho hat, and a broken thing inside him that sees the face of his captors in everyone who reminds him of what they did. He's not finished.
Aubrey Archer works homicide. When a couple is executed in their apartment and their ten-year-old daughter is found hiding in a closet, the case should be straightforward. It isn't. But it's the closet that gets her — because Aubrey hid in one too, a long time ago, in a life she's spent years trying to bury. She has a brother no database can find and a past that bleeds through every case she touches. This one most of all.
They don't know each other. They're connected through someone neither of them can see yet.
Aubrey is chasing a shadow. Gabriel is trying to find his.