༻ 03 ༺

Dereck's car smelled faintly of engine oil and air freshener, the familiar rattle in the dashboard syncing with the rhythm of the road as they pulled away from the hotel. Trevin sat in the passenger seat, elbow propped against the door, the borrowed T-shirt hanging loose on him. The chain lay coiled in his palm, the locket clicking softly as he rolled it between his fingers.

Dereck glanced over at him at a red light. "Alright," he said. "Start talking. Why am I picking you up from a hotel like you just escaped a bad decision?"

Trevin huffed out a breath. "Because I might have." He told him everything-waking up naked, no phone, no wallet, no keys. The room booked under a name he didn't recognize. Cash payment. No ID. The camera footage. The hoodie. The chain. As he spoke, his thumb traced the edge of the locket over and over, grounding himself in its weight.

By the time he finished, Dereck was quiet. "That... sounds insane," Dereck said finally. "You sure this isn't one of those nights you think you don't remember, but actually do and just don't want to?"

Trevin shot him a look. "You really think I'd forget all of that?"

"I think alcohol plus stress equals gaps," Dereck said carefully. "You're telling me you don't remember meeting a woman at all?"

"All I remember is ordering a drink," Trevin said. "That's it. One drink. No flirting. No leaving with anyone. Just the bar."

Dereck frowned. "Which bar?"

"I'll tell you when we get home."

He lifted the chain, letting the locket dangle. "I need you to do something for me."

Dereck's eyes flicked to it. "What's that?"

"I found this chain with a locket in the room. Can you run the photo inside it? Facial recognition, databases, anything. And the footage from the hotel-I want it enhanced. See if you can pull a face from the hoodie, even partial. And check if there are gaps. Missed frames. Anything that doesn't add up."

"You're asking a lot," Dereck said.

"I know," Trevin replied. "But I need to know what actually happened."

They drove in silence for a moment, the city slipping past the windows. "You said the manager's holding the room?" Dereck asked.

"Yeah. He agreed not to rent it out until the police get there. I've got a friend on the force-if they can lift prints, maybe we'll get something. The room was too clean."

Dereck nodded slowly. "Okay. That helps."

"My car's still parked there," Trevin added. "But I don't have my keys."

Dereck exhaled sharply. "Of course you don't."

"And my phone's gone."

Dereck reached for his own phone, already thinking ahead.

"We'll try to trace it. If it's powered on, there's a chance. Even if it's not, sometimes the last ping tells a story."

Trevin leaned back in the seat, staring out the window. The chain rested cold against his palm. "This wasn't random," he said quietly. "Someone wanted me there. Someone planned it."

Dereck glanced at him again, this time more serious. "Then we figure it out. One step at a time."

Trevin nodded, closing his fingers around the locket.

Because whatever picture was inside that chain it wasn't just a clue. It was a reason.

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