What Isn't There
Your shadow shows what you're really thinking. Not what you're saying. Not what you're pretending to feel. What you actually want. What you're about to do. The truth you're trying to hide from everyone else. From yourself.
Mira Okonkwo had collected forty-seven shadows by the time she turned thirty.
She kept count in a small leather notebook. Name, date, location, circumstances.
She arrived at the Riverside Apartments at 9:47 AM. Third-floor unit. The manager met her in the hallway.
"It's been there since yesterday," he said. "Tenant called it in."
"Has it moved?"
"No. Just stands there by the window."
Mira opened her collection case. Black leather, worn smooth. Inside: glass vials of various sizes. A few specialized tools. A logbook. Her certification badge.
The apartment was small. Neat. Someone lived here alone.
The shadow stood by the living room window. Adult male. Average height. Hands in pockets. Looking out at the city.
Mira pulled out her scanner and aimed it at the shadow.
The reading came back immediately.
REGISTERED SEPARATION: Chen, David - November 8, 2022 LOCATION: Brooklyn Bridge CLASSIFICATION: Self-harm intervention STATUS: Collected and filed - Ward 7
Mira's chest tightened. She checked the address again. Checked the scanner reading.
David Chen didn't live here.
She'd collected his shadow herself. Three years ago. Driven it to Ward 7.
So why was it here?
Mira approached slowly. "I need to see your hands."
The shadow didn't move.
Her scanner beeped. A new alert.
WARNING: Shadow exhibiting post-return behavior PROTOCOL: Do not attempt collection without backup
Post-return behavior. When shadows came back to their people.
But David Chen didn't live here.
Mira checked the apartment lease information. Current resident: Emily Chen.
The shadow turned to look at her.
"You're not here for yourself," Mira said quietly. "You're here for her."
The shadow took a step toward the bedroom door. Stopped. Looked back at Mira.
Mira followed it to the bedroom door.
The room was dark. Curtains drawn. A woman lay in bed, covers pulled up to her chin. Eyes open. Staring at the ceiling.
On the nightstand: an empty pill bottle.
Mira grabbed her phone. "I need an ambulance at Riverside Apartments, unit 304. Suspected overdose."
She checked the woman's pulse while she waited. Weak but present.
The shadow stood at the foot of the bed. Watching.
The ambulance took eleven minutes. Mira rode with them. Stayed until Emily was stable.
When the doctor confirmed Emily would make it, Mira went back to the apartment.
David Chen's shadow was gone.
She searched the entire apartment. Scanned every corner. Nothing.
Mira sat in Emily's empty living room for a long time. Then she pulled out her leather notebook. Wrote a new entry.
"Chen, David - November 12th - Riverside Apartments. Unknown status. Unable to collect."
She pulled up the Ward 7 database on her tablet.
CHEN, DAVID - COLLECTED: November 8, 2022 STORED: Ward 7, Section C, Container 2847 STATUS: Contained
Every verification for the past three years showed David Chen's shadow exactly where it should be.
But she'd just watched it walk around Emily's apartment.
Mira stood up. Left the apartment. Drove to Ward 7.
She thought about Marcus's calls. Three weeks of missed calls. He'd asked about Emma. About shadow separation in infants.
Mira had lied to him. Said it was fine.
But she'd pulled Emma's file. Seen the notes.
She'd just been too afraid to tell her brother.
The building was unmarked. Gray concrete. Small door with a keypad.
She entered her code. The door buzzed open.
Fluorescent lights. Long hallways. The hum of containment units.
She signed in at the desk. "Here for a verification check. Section C. Container 2847."
The attendant printed her a visitor badge. "Third floor."
Mira rode the elevator in silence. Walked the familiar halls. Found Section C.
Found Container 2847.
It was full.
David Chen's shadow stood inside the glass containment unit, perfectly still, exactly where it should be.
Mira stared at it. At the shadow she'd just seen fifteen miles away.
She pulled out her scanner. Aimed it at the shadow in the container.
REGISTERED: Chen, David - November 8, 2022 STATUS: Contained
The reading was identical to the one she'd gotten at the apartment.
Mira walked down the hallway. Started checking other containers at random. Scanning shadows she'd collected weeks ago, months ago, years ago.
Every scan came back normal. Every shadow exactly where it should be.
But now she was looking at them differently.
Not a single shadow in Ward 7 was moving.
Not fidgeting. Not shifting. Not doing any of the small movements that shadows made when they existed independently.
They were all frozen. Perfect. Still.
Like photographs.
Mira's phone rang. Unknown number.
"Miss Okonkwo." The voice was calm. Male. "You've had a very unusual day."
"Who is this?"
"Please exit the building. Your access will be revoked in three minutes."
"What did you do with the shadows?"
"The shadows are exactly where they need to be."
"The Ward is empty. These are just—"
"We'll discuss this tomorrow at 9 AM. Department headquarters. Don't be late."
The line went dead.
Mira looked at the containers around her. At the forty-seven shadows she'd personally brought here. At the hundreds more collected by other operatives.
All of them frozen. None of them real.
She left Ward 7 and drove home in silence.
She'd collected forty-seven shadows.
But she had no idea where any of them really were.
She pulled out her phone. Looked at Marcus's missed calls. Seventeen of them.
She should call him back. Tell him the truth.
But what would she say?
Mira put the phone down.
Tomorrow she'd tell him. Tomorrow she'd figure out what to say.
She checked her calendar for tomorrow.
June 20th: Summer Solstice.
The longest day of the year.