Chapter Two: Thirteen at Midnight

The first course: three years. The second: seven. The twelfth: fifty-six. The total was one hundred forty-six—the exact age Gu would be if the man in Everday's oldest photograph had lived until today. “This isn't nutrition data,” she said. “It's a ledger of age.” Gu stood behind the empty chair. “A shelf life.” “Did this come from the missing people?” Lin Shuo laughed. “We don't kill people, Doctor. We only eat the time they would have wasted.” Zhiwei snatched up a silver fork and stabbed at him. He caught her arm easily, then recoiled in pain when he touched the handle. She ran for the entrance. The bolt would not move. Beyond the glass, Wutong Street had changed: headlights, neon signs, and every raindrop hung motionless in the air.