Chapter One: The Seventh-to-Last Second

The umbrella was three steps away. It tilted upward. There was no face beneath it, only layer after layer of mouths, all whispering the same sentence. Don't let her wake. "Two." Shen Yao pressed the ticket against the mirror. Her hand sank through as if the glass were water. The woman inside seized her wrist. "Never tell it your name," the other Shen Yao said. "And don't trust the one who wakes up." "One." The umbrella snapped shut. A hundred mouths inhaled. The reflection dragged Shen Yao through. For an instant she saw Zhou lying at the far end of the platform, a door split open in his chest. Beyond it stood a city drowned in fog. Thousands of windows lit at once. Faceless people watched from every one, a black ring around each wrist.