The tension from that night hadn't faded by morning. The coffee was more bitter than ever, and the eggs were far too salty. Valentina and Naomi talked a lot about what to do, but I stayed silent, thinking about the riddle.
"The meal is ready, but where and when?" I decided to leave the workshop to search for more clues. Maybe they hadn't noticed I was gone. Or maybe they had let me go. Either way, it was time to figure out who I was without them.
...
The blazing sun hit my forehead, making it hard to see. I didn't like going outside much, so I wasn't used to it. All kinds of cars passed by. I even heard people speaking Spanish, but I wasn't very good at it.
The idea of a "meal" suggested food, but it didn't seem that obvious. Still, it was a starting point.
I went back to the cemetery, but there was no trace of what had happened. The tombstones were too clean—like someone had worked hard to erase the previous night. The Hunters had been called by guards. Were they part of a government organization?
I searched that place thoroughly and found nothing. I wished they had been just a little careless...
Wait... my dream! That crazy dream I had back in Havenmere. My sister and father were puppets, like Zeki. "The coffee is ready," my mother had said, and the table was full of breakfast—fruit, eggs, bacon, toast, and pancakes.
If my dream meant anything, maybe they were near a diner. But there are hundreds of diners in Los Angeles.
I needed more clues. Was dreaming the best path forward? I still wasn't used to these kinds of things. Something had activated my vision back at the shop, and I needed to remember.
Zeki was panicking, and Naomi had asked me to grab the injection. I wasn't happy about it, but it was fear nonetheless. My heart was racing, my breath felt stuck. Was it a moment of desperation—or just my anxiety?
But why hadn't it activated the night before at the cemetery? Could it only work once a day? Time to start testing.
In my life, my anxiety has always had two roots: fear of death and fear of rejection. But since my parents disappeared, I feel like I lost the part of me that cares about how others see me. So maybe the best option was to put myself at risk.
My first attempt was to throw myself in front of a car. I had to be careful not to actually die. I tried once, twice, three, even four times. But my mind kept asking, "What if I die?" I always jumped too early or hesitated too long. Maybe it was too dangerous for me...
The second attempt was... getting beaten up. A street fight. That way, I wouldn't be in control. All I had to do was provoke someone enough to want to hit me. I tried a few times, but I don't think I'm brave enough to go around provoking strangers.
I tried all sorts of things: hanging from high places, drowning, burning myself. But in the end, I couldn't do what was needed. I wandered the city until the sun began to set, and I found myself at the pier, staring at the ocean and thinking about my failure.
The frustration was so overwhelming that I started talking to myself.
It wasn't enough that I couldn't help in fights or make plans—now I couldn't even put myself in danger. Everyone around me could get hurt except me. Who did I think I was? Just a piece of failure that happened to fall into a pot of luck.
An old homeless man beside me seemed to notice my distress. He took a sip of his cheap whiskey and handed me the bottle.
He wore a cap and sunglasses, and his beard was trimmed only at the chin.
"Maybe you couldn't hurt yourself. But maybe that means there's still something inside you that wants to fight. Drink this—it'll help."
I politely refused the whiskey because of my age, but that didn't stop him from speaking.
"You seem like a good kid. Here's a tip: try doing what you can, you understand? Trying crazy stuff will only drive you crazier."
"But I can't do anything right."
"No one's bad at everything. And if you were, you wouldn't be here."
He simply sat down and fell asleep in the middle of the conversation.
Maybe I should be like him. Why overthink? The threads of thought in my head always tangle into a giant knot. Focus on what I can do, he said.
I let myself act on impulse and jumped off the pier into the water. When I hit the surface, everything went black for a moment—and then I woke up inside what looked like a water tank. My legs were chained with a padlock, and my hands were cuffed. It felt like I was part of a magic performance.
Even though I knew it was a dream, my breathing slowed over time. It felt more real than it should. I spotted the key in the left corner of the tank. I clawed at the floor so hard to reach it that my fingers started bleeding. As I desperately tried to unlock the padlock, water rushed into my nose and bubbled out of my mouth.
With one final breath, I fit the key and broke free. I spat out all the water I had swallowed and climbed out of the tank. The cuffs on my wrists immediately released. Suddenly, everything went dark, and a spotlight shone down on me. The only sound I could hear was my own breathing.
Then, in a flash, all the lights came on, and the roar of a massive crowd drowned out my breath. A stage, an audience, and a studio surrounded me. Only one thing was missing...
"Ladies and gentlemen, presenting the great magician James Kobbala! Give him a round of applause! Ssshehehe!"
That laugh... it was him—Professor Grimm. And this time, he was well-dressed and smelled good. I was in a reality show.
"Now he'll show us his final trick. Are you ready?"
The crowd began chanting my name like I was someone truly famous.
The lights went out completely, and the stage began to move. I had just escaped from a water tank, chained and cuffed. What could be worse?
I heard all kinds of sounds in the pitch black—glass shattering, sirens blaring, even explosions. Apparently, they were ready to throw me into a natural disaster.
The lights came back on, and suddenly I was in an oriental setting. Was it Chinese architecture? I wasn't sure, but it looked like it. The setup was simple: one table, one chair, and three pairs of chopsticks.
Then, three chefs arrived, each carrying a tray. The dishes were labeled: Peking Duck, Kung Pao Chicken, and Bird's Nest Soup.
"And now for the final challenge! Here we have three delicacies from Chinese cuisine. Two are poisoned. Our magician must choose the safe one—by smell alone!"
"Wait, what?!"
Grimm leaned in close to my ear.
"After all, you're the great magician. You never miss, do you?"
Three dishes. Three choices. But only one was real. And I didn't know if I was the magician... or the trick.
In the blink of an eye, I was seated. A timer started—I had only thirty seconds to decide. The smells were completely normal. They were just food. If I chose wrong, would I die? It was just a dream, but I felt like I'd drown again in that tank.
I wasn't familiar with Chinese food, so I didn't even know what the dishes tasted like. It was a decision based entirely on instinct. So many "what ifs" and no clues to help me.
The clock began to beep with each passing second. Nine, eight, seven... My time was running out. I closed my eyes. "Thinking crazy thoughts will only make you crazy," that old man had been wise without knowing it. I took a deep breath and pointed to my answer... the Bird's Nest Soup.
The timer stopped. I was ready to eat.
"Seems it wasn't so hard to make a decision, was it?"
It was Naomi's voice. She had taken the professor's place.
"There was no poison. You just had to make a choice."
Suddenly, the stage vanished, the lights went out, and the spotlight focused only on me. The crowd began chanting my name—and Naomi joined in.
"Kobba! Kobba! Kobba!"
But slowly, the edges of the audience faded, and I could only hear her voice. It sounded... desperate?
"Kobba, you idiot! Wake up! Don't do this to me, please!"
I spat out so much water I looked like a fountain.
"Don't do what to you?"
Naomi hugged me like I'd just come back from the dead.
"You idiot! You almost drowned! If I hadn't found you in time, you'd be dead."
"You were looking for me?"
"Of course! Everyone at the workshop was looking for you. Valentina gave everyone the day off to search. We've been looking for you all day. Why did you do that?"
"A Chinese restaurant! Zeki is in a Chinese restaurant!"
The sky was dark, and the city lights were beginning to glow. I was still trembling—but it wasn't fear anymore.
It was certainty.
For the first time, I wasn't running away.
I was going after him.