Chapter One: The Ninth Photograph

A silver-white figure climbed over the back of the arch. She wore the blue gradient cape, and the star on her chest shone like dawn tearing open ahead of schedule. She stepped onto the tilted roof of the truck and held up its falling cab with one hand. Light spread down her arm, bending into the same rusted arc as the photograph. Shen pressed the shutter. In the blink when the viewfinder went dark and opened again, the girl on the bridge looked up. She stared directly toward the seventh-floor window. Across mist, glass, and six hundred yards, she pressed a finger to her lips—the gesture from the fourth photograph. Then she formed three silent words. Don't photograph me.