The city breathes in shadows, its heartbeat a relentless rhythm of sirens, whispers, and the shuffle of hurried footsteps. Beneath the surface, where the light barely reaches, secrets fester like wounds that refuse to heal. In the alleys and basements, in the condemned buildings and forgotten corners, the dead whisper their truths to those who dare to listen.
Detective Wulf knows this better than anyone. Twenty-three years on the NYPD homicide detail have taught him that every corpse has a story, and every story is a puzzle waiting to be solved. But some puzzles don't fit together neatly. Some pieces are missing, and others areged, cutting deep into the hands that try to assemble them.
This is a city where identities are currency, where the dead don't always stay buried, and where the living wear masks that hide more than their faces. It's a place where the line between justice and survival blurs, and the truth is a dangerous thing to uncover.
Tonight, the city is restless. The rain falls in sheets, washing away the blood but not the stains. Somewhere in the darkness, a ghost moves, unseen but always watching. And Detective Wulf, with his scarred face and tired eyes, is about to learn that some stories don't end?they just change their names.
Because in this city, only the dead can speak.
