Daniel did not sleep.

He sat on the edge of his bed until sunrise, staring at the photograph.

Every few minutes he turned it over.

You promised you would never remember.

The words had been written in black ink.

The handwriting looked familiar.

That was the part Daniel hated most.

He had seen that handwriting before.

Somewhere.

Perhaps in an old notebook.

Perhaps in a letter.

Perhaps in a memory that was still hiding somewhere inside his mind.

But nothing came.

At 6:42 AM, Daniel finally stood.

He walked to the kitchen and made coffee.

His hands were still shaking.

He placed the cup on the counter and looked at his reflection in the dark window.

For a moment, he imagined another face standing behind him.

The tall man from the photographs.

Daniel turned quickly.

Nobody was there.

He closed his eyes.

“Get a grip.”

His phone was lying on the table.

He picked it up and checked the messages again.

DON’T ANSWER TOMORROW.

HE WILL CALL AT 3:17.

AND THIS TIME HE WILL TELL YOU WHO YOU KILLED.

Daniel stared at the last sentence.

Who you killed.

Not who Jonathan killed.

Not who someone killed.

Who you killed.

He opened his contacts.

His thumb stopped over one name.

Maya Carter.

Maya had been his closest friend since university.

She was now an investigative editor at the same newspaper where Daniel worked.

If anyone could help him understand what was happening, it was Maya.

He called her.

She answered after the fourth ring.

“Daniel?”

Her voice was sleepy.

“Are you awake?”

“No. I’m answering your call in my sleep.”

“I need to see you.”

A pause.

“What happened?”

“I found something.”

“What kind of something?”

Daniel looked at the photograph.

“Something about Jonathan Reed.”

The silence on the other end changed.

Maya was suddenly awake.

“Where did you get his name?”

“I’ve been researching him.”

“I know that.”

“Then you know why I need to talk.”

Another pause.

“Come to the office.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because if you’re calling me at seven in the morning about Jonathan Reed, I don’t want this conversation happening over the phone.”

Daniel hung up.

Twenty minutes later, he left his apartment.

He locked the door twice.

Then stood in the hallway.

For some reason, he looked back at the door.

He had the strange feeling that someone was watching him from inside.

He ignored it.

Outside, the morning was gray.

Rain clouds covered the sky.

Daniel walked toward the newspaper office.

The city looked ordinary.

People were going to work.

Children were waiting for buses.

Shopkeepers were opening their doors.

Nobody knew that somewhere in the middle of all this ordinary life, a dead man had called him at 3:17 AM.

Nobody knew that Daniel had apparently forgotten something important.

And nobody knew that he might have killed someone.

At least, that’s what the caller wanted him to believe.

When Daniel reached the office, Maya was waiting for him near the elevators.

She was thirty-one, with short dark hair and a habit of staring at people when she knew they were lying.

She looked at Daniel.

“You look terrible.”

“I didn’t sleep.”

“Why?”

Daniel took the photograph from his pocket.

Maya’s expression changed immediately.

“Where did you get that?”

“You recognize it?”

She didn’t answer.

“Maya.”

She looked around.

“Not here.”

They went into an empty conference room.

Maya closed the door.

Daniel placed the photograph on the table.

“Tell me what you know.”

Maya stared at it.

“Where did you find this?”

“In my apartment.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It was inside an envelope.”

“Who gave it to you?”

“I don’t know.”

Maya looked at him.

“Daniel.”

“What?”

“Did you call me last night?”

“No.”

“You called me at 2:51.”

Daniel frowned.

“I did not.”

“You did.”

“What did I say?”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“What?”

“You called me. I answered. There was silence. Then you hung up.”

Daniel’s stomach tightened.

“Are you sure?”

Maya took out her phone.

She showed him the call history.

2:51 AM — Daniel Vale.

Daniel stared at the screen.

“I don’t remember calling you.”

Maya slowly sat down.

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking.”

“Then what’s happening?”

Daniel took a breath.

“I received a call at 3:17.”

“From who?”

“Jonathan Reed.”

Maya’s face went pale.

“That’s impossible.”

“I know.”

“Daniel.”

“I know.”

“He’s dead.”

“I know.”

“How do you know it was him?”

“He told me.”

Maya looked at him for several seconds.

Then she asked,

“What did he say?”

Daniel hesitated.

“He said I wasn’t supposed to remember.”

Maya didn’t move.

“What?”

“He said I promised never to remember.”

Maya’s eyes dropped to the photograph.

Then she whispered,

“Oh God.”

Daniel noticed.

“What?”

She didn’t answer.

“Maya, what?”

She pointed at the picture.

“Look at your hand.”

Daniel looked.

His younger self was sitting across from Jonathan.

His right hand was resting on the table.

There was something around his wrist.

A thin black band.

Daniel’s face changed.

Maya opened her laptop.

She searched through an archive.

“Jonathan’s final investigation.”

A series of old newspaper articles appeared.

Maya clicked one.

The headline read:

JOURNALIST JONATHAN REED FOUND DEAD

Another article.

POLICE RULE OUT FOUL PLAY

Another.

REED’S FINAL INVESTIGATION REMAINS UNFINISHED

Maya clicked the last one.

The article contained a photograph of Jonathan.

Underneath it was a list of people he had interviewed before his death.

Daniel scanned the names.

Then stopped.

One name was circled in red.

Daniel Vale.

His mouth went dry.

“I was twenty-two.”

“You were.”

“I didn’t know him.”

Maya looked at him.

“You knew him.”

“How?”

“You worked with him.”

Daniel shook his head.

“No.”

“You were an intern.”

“No.”

“Daniel, I checked the newspaper archives years ago.”

“Why?”

“Because I was investigating Jonathan.”

“What did you find?”

Maya closed the laptop.

“That you disappeared from the newspaper for six months after his death.”

Daniel stared at her.

“I don’t remember that.”

“I know.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I thought you knew.”

Daniel stood.

“Where are the records?”

“What records?”

“Everything about Jonathan.”

Maya hesitated.

Then she opened a drawer.

She removed an old file.

The folder was thick and worn.

She placed it on the table.

“This is what remains.”

Daniel opened it.

The first pages contained newspaper articles.

The next contained police reports.

Then photographs.

Then witness statements.

Daniel turned each page.

Nothing.

Then he found something.

A police report dated October 14.

11:43 PM.

It stated that Jonathan had been seen leaving a building on Mercer Street.

Daniel knew that building.

The old newspaper headquarters.

The report continued.

Witness reports seeing Jonathan with an unidentified male.

Daniel’s heart began beating faster.

He turned the page.

There was a sketch.

The witness had described the man as tall.

Dark coat.

Short hair.

No visible facial features.

Daniel looked at Maya.

“That’s him.”

“Who?”

“The man in the photograph.”

Maya frowned.

“You’ve seen him?”

“Twice.”

Daniel showed her the photographs.

Maya stared at them.

Then she looked back at the police sketch.

Her face went pale.

“That’s the same man.”

Daniel turned another page.

A handwritten note had been attached to the report.

DO NOT PURSUE.

Daniel looked at Maya.

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“You know something.”

Maya stood.

“Daniel, I found this file six years ago.”

“And?”

“I was told to stop looking.”

“By who?”

She didn’t answer.

“By who?”

Maya whispered,

“Jonathan.”

Daniel froze.

“What?”

“Before he died, Jonathan called me.”

“When?”

“The night before.”

“What did he say?”

“He asked me if I knew you.”

Daniel felt the room become colder.

“What else?”

“He said if anything happened to him, I should never tell you what we discussed.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him I would help.”

Daniel stared at her.

“And you didn’t?”

“I tried.”

“Then why don’t I remember any of this?”

Maya looked away.

“Because you asked me to forget.”

Daniel’s eyes narrowed.

“I asked you?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“After Jonathan died.”

Daniel stepped back.

“No.”

“You came to my apartment.”

“I didn’t live there.”

“You did.”

“No.”

“You were injured.”

Daniel touched his forehead.

Suddenly, a sharp pain struck behind his eyes.

A flash.

Rain.

A street.

A black car.

Jonathan standing under a streetlamp.

Someone shouting.

Then darkness.

Daniel grabbed the table.

Maya rushed toward him.

“Daniel?”

He closed his eyes.

The memory disappeared.

“What did I see?”

“You tell me.”

“I saw Jonathan.”

“Where?”

“Outside.”

“Where?”

“The railway bridge.”

Maya froze.

Daniel opened his eyes.

“The night he died.”

Maya whispered,

“You were there.”

Daniel looked at her.

“No.”

“You were.”

“How do you know?”

“Because Jonathan told me.”

“What did he say?”

Maya’s voice became barely audible.

“He said if you ever remembered that night, you would know why he had to die.”

Daniel stared at her.

The room seemed to shrink.

Then his phone vibrated.

Both of them looked at it.

One new message.

YOU ARE GETTING CLOSER.

Daniel’s fingers went cold.

Another message arrived.

ASK MAYA WHAT SHE DID AT 3:17.

Daniel slowly looked at Maya.

She had already gone pale.

“What does that mean?”

Maya didn’t answer.

“Maya?”

She stepped backward.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t ask me.”

“You know something.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because if I tell you, he’ll know.”

“Who?”

Maya looked toward the conference room door.

Her voice broke.

“Jonathan.”

Daniel stared at her.

“You think he’s alive?”

“No.”

“Then who is calling me?”

Maya didn’t answer.

Daniel’s phone began ringing.

The screen showed:

UNKNOWN

It was 11:24 AM.

Not 3:17.

Daniel stared at the phone.

Maya whispered,

“Don’t answer.”

The ringing continued.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Daniel rejected the call.

The ringing stopped.

A message appeared.

GOOD.

Then another.

NOW YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO JONATHAN.

Daniel’s heart stopped.

He looked at Maya.

“What?”

She stared at the screen.

A final message appeared.

YOU KILLED HIM.

The phone slipped from Daniel’s hand.

It hit the floor.

For several seconds, neither of them moved.

Then Maya whispered,

“Daniel…”

He looked at her.

“What?”

She pointed toward the window.

Across the street, beside a parked black car, stood a man wearing a dark coat.

He was looking directly at them.

Daniel ran to the window.

The man turned.

For one second, their eyes met.

Then he disappeared into the crowd.

Daniel ran outside.

He reached the street seconds later.

The black car was gone.

But something had been left behind.

A small brown envelope.

Daniel picked it up.

On the front were four words.

FOR DANIEL. 3:17 TONIGHT.

He opened it.

Inside was a single photograph.

Jonathan Reed was standing beside the railway bridge.

Beside him was Daniel.

And between them stood the man in the dark coat.

On the back of the photograph, someone had written:

TONIGHT YOU WILL REMEMBER EVERYTHING.