In a dim apartment tucked inside Blüdhaven’s quieter streets, the alarm clock rang right on schedule.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhNPgknBxzN
Jazz seeped from the radio—one of those mellow, slightly dusty tunes that sound like they’ve been playing since the 1950s.
Claire blinked herself awake. Her brown eyes were still cloudy with sleep, but her body was already moving, out of habit more than intent.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡChNzsHjPDZ
— Another morning, just as unremarkable as the last. Her limbs knew what to do. Her thoughts hadn’t caught up yet.
She got up slowly, pulled on her clothes, and watered the plant by the window.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk1mvl20UNj
— It looked like it had grown another inch. She always suspected it was secretly a cactus pretending to be something else.
By the time she reached the kitchen, the sky was barely awake—dark navy at the edges, with the faintest smear of light.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIyATPEo9oX
— The sky felt like her: still hitting snooze, refusing to fully rise.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKH8yozxR9G
Claire never liked the moment daylight really took over. It was too loud. Too confident.
She ran a café. Small, slightly crooked, hiding in a forgettable alley.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYNKYyagL9X
It used to be a secondhand store, left behind by her late aunt. Claire had turned it into something warm, something caffeinated.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe7HubMJhJn
— Her aunt had... eccentric tastes. Claire never did figure out why she collected so many strange little things.
The only perk of the café’s location? It sat next to the Blüdhaven police precinct.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDG5Boalg2V
Which meant she could afford to stay open until 7 p.m., unlike most shops that shut down by three.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZdFC6SQpiG
— Cops might be sarcastic as hell, but at least they order fast.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWvkGwvWzTv
Way better than the afternoon crowd asking if she carried decaf-organic-soy-lattes while holding a shivering chihuahua.
When Claire took over the place, she didn’t know what to do with all the oddities left behind—prosthetic hands, glass eyeballs, and a music box that felt vaguely cursed.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmD0FvCVTFH
She shoved most of it upstairs into the second-floor room.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9tj821DIJQ
— She never opened the music box. It always felt like it was waiting for her to mess something up.
She only used the first and third floors anyway.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo2Wf93OpFU
— Life had enough things she couldn’t control. As long as the building didn’t collapse, she wasn’t going to micromanage its haunted corners.
In the back kitchen, she pulled out yesterday’s dough and started shaping bagels.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0xlYRZCDme
The work rush would start soon.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlwJLHREQ4g
— Dough was gentle. Predictable. You give it time, temperature, attention—it behaves.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnp1VZptcGO
People, not so much.
Claire felt oddly good that morning. Like maybe there’d be a steady stream of customers.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2iFyRLceRF
— She was probably wrong. But a little self-deception before sunrise was better than starting the day already defeated.
She’d just finished lining up the bagels when the newspaper landed outside with a thud.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZvW6GJgpfl
She picked it up, glanced at the cover.
Nightwing.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOTYmsLxsP7
Leaping mid-air, grinning like he knew the whole city was watching.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHSy3ExQAbg
Baton in hand. Camera focused squarely on his backside.
Claire…
— Rolled her eyes.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlX1nQfn8W6
Did photographers forget faces existed? Or were asses genuinely more marketable now?
She tossed the paper onto the counter for whoever wanted it.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡO0vGVPliFf
— Whatever. That ass might end up more popular than her bagels today.
The bell over the door rang. First customer of the day.
Claire smiled. A regular. Middle-aged cop, heading into work.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSapBMfWxmZ
— Always ordered the same thing: two black coffees. One for himself. The other? Never said. Claire never asked.
And just like that, the day began.
—--------------------------
The alarm rang in the dim apartment.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmNI5S2nZDc
The jazz tune came on again—mellow, familiar, almost too familiar.
Claire opened her eyes, brown and heavy with sleep, and forced herself upright.
— She’d heard this before. Yesterday.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡki28zAwEhL
That saxophone bend into the chorus, the beat that tripped just slightly before the downbeat—she could hum along.
Jazz wasn’t Top 40. No one plays the same track two days in a row.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmu19wMaLrT
She frowned. Was it some jazz week promotion? A record label paying the station to loop the same song?
— No. This was lazy.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPP1d4cOKXn
No edit, no transition. It picked up at the exact same spot as yesterday.
Claire sat up slowly. Her eyes were still half-closed, but her nerves were beginning to itch. Just enough to notice.
She dressed. Watered the window plant. Went downstairs.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2QxiYwFwp7
Same as always.
She glanced out the window. The sky looked about right for the season—late dawn, pale at the edges.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEXQ9725TPc
Nothing too weird. Not yet.
She stepped into the kitchen and pulled out the dough.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡX2mnwH8N36
But stopped.
— That’s not right.
She remembered preparing chocolate dough last night. She wanted to make something sweet for Easter.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAW5Rd3QtXE
Added a pinch of cinnamon, too—just enough to give it depth.
But the dough in front of her? It was plain. Just like yesterday.
Maybe… she misremembered?13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhluxZ2tT4Y
Claire shrugged it off and started baking anyway.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcqTex43Vt4
— People get tired. Thoughts blur. Maybe she never made the chocolate batch at all.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4ASoiIPwyy
No point snapping at herself. Bagels don’t care.
The paper arrived.
She picked it up. Froze.
— That photo. That angle.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ84gz8vaKbQ
That...ass.
She’d seen that picture.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9Haq3z6KrV
Nightwing in midair, beaming like a rogue gymnast, baton in hand—camera lovingly focused on his backside.
Her temple twitched.
This was yesterday’s newspaper.
She remembered the exact thought from the morning before:13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3vgU2Od0sX
“Do photographers even remember to shoot faces?”
It floated up again, uninvited.
She flipped the paper to check the date.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd9tFlkKfxb
April 21st.
She looked toward the door, maybe to call after the delivery guy, but no one was there.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNBseY2wuAT
Too late.
Still frowning, she set the paper on the counter and walked back toward the register.
The bell jingled. First customer.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzomKqC2LWc
Same man as yesterday.
Claire greeted him with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Hey Kyle,” she said. “You seen today’s paper?”
“Oh yeah,” he grinned. “That Nightwing kid again, huh?”
He glanced down at the cover and chuckled.
Claire swallowed her complaint about the mistaken delivery.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiWI5XvlNSu
Maybe it was just a fluke.
She cleared her throat.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡazjRUBW3S8
“Kyle…what’s today’s date?”
Kyle blinked, then gave a little laugh. “April 21st, Claire. Easter Sunday.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc8PzLGcV9S
And hey—Happy Easter!”
Claire’s eyes widened.
— April 21st.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzyltRd7mWG
She was sure that was yesterday.
She wasn’t the kind of person who forgot holidays. She’d even drawn a stupid bunny on a sticky note in the back kitchen.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuOXLxlgyXi
It was still there, taped to the counter. A reminder to push hot chocolate sales.
Her chest tightened.
Kyle was still smiling, saying something cheerful.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvQEU4ZHGVs
But she couldn’t hear him anymore.
Her mind had narrowed into one small, steady sentence:
— What the hell is going on?
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3ggtOcTLEa
