In a dim apartment tucked inside Blüdhaven’s quieter streets, the alarm clock rang right on schedule.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPBqCwBZPJL
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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyC6hON1fPs
— 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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP2lKryISpo
— 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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLC6PNyWN8Z
— The sky felt like her: still hitting snooze, refusing to fully rise.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLFfZR1IwZu
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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZvzRmH2lm4
It used to be a secondhand store, left behind by her late aunt. Claire had turned it into something warm, something caffeinated.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7JM2jlPC3r
— 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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOnMMxOC2rm
Which meant she could afford to stay open until 7 p.m., unlike most shops that shut down by three.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwit3EAoZSD
— Cops might be sarcastic as hell, but at least they order fast.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZzcanEg2aQ
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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjy5Nrs7LMI
She shoved most of it upstairs into the second-floor room.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBFliN0T1Py
— 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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTuWqTNO3Kw
— 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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrXEjQ6HN9D
The work rush would start soon.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKHcOfIKXCk
— Dough was gentle. Predictable. You give it time, temperature, attention—it behaves.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF0E7lHNH1W
People, not so much.
Claire felt oddly good that morning. Like maybe there’d be a steady stream of customers.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdVuwvU1GxV
— 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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLUecBZIKEU
She picked it up, glanced at the cover.
Nightwing.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoKcoblc3H3
Leaping mid-air, grinning like he knew the whole city was watching.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqe5LkTM0pf
Baton in hand. Camera focused squarely on his backside.
Claire…
— Rolled her eyes.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8TmZSm3t6T
Did photographers forget faces existed? Or were asses genuinely more marketable now?
She tossed the paper onto the counter for whoever wanted it.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpbDtiUiHAC
— 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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf2DZZN9h2P
— 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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVUKWKBPKI5
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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxWWJOvbXh7
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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXWMLVwVPmJ
She frowned. Was it some jazz week promotion? A record label paying the station to loop the same song?
— No. This was lazy.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxbwhC0rNTB
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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOPlmVEgq5V
Same as always.
She glanced out the window. The sky looked about right for the season—late dawn, pale at the edges.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaKs8xWBB9p
Nothing too weird. Not yet.
She stepped into the kitchen and pulled out the dough.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHruc46rk7M
But stopped.
— That’s not right.
She remembered preparing chocolate dough last night. She wanted to make something sweet for Easter.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGkFhzLg8fR
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?28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4Z7uBQYp3N
Claire shrugged it off and started baking anyway.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL5J5M2g8aZ
— People get tired. Thoughts blur. Maybe she never made the chocolate batch at all.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5BoqxAXul7
No point snapping at herself. Bagels don’t care.
The paper arrived.
She picked it up. Froze.
— That photo. That angle.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWdVUvmZLKR
That...ass.
She’d seen that picture.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUJOm8y5ibQ
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:28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZx22SBNJng
“Do photographers even remember to shoot faces?”
It floated up again, uninvited.
She flipped the paper to check the date.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyxhXXd4fVG
April 21st.
She looked toward the door, maybe to call after the delivery guy, but no one was there.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡX320XRu8JI
Too late.
Still frowning, she set the paper on the counter and walked back toward the register.
The bell jingled. First customer.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡW81E3ZdZ0j
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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbCtdyfH4Af
Maybe it was just a fluke.
She cleared her throat.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyh9LMTnfHV
“Kyle…what’s today’s date?”
Kyle blinked, then gave a little laugh. “April 21st, Claire. Easter Sunday.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPANgGmEnpv
And hey—Happy Easter!”
Claire’s eyes widened.
— April 21st.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYc7bsGgWHh
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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0xpjUR3x7A
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.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNi0AdVaW9X
But she couldn’t hear him anymore.
Her mind had narrowed into one small, steady sentence:
— What the hell is going on?
28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2jBoky5OyW
