"That’s tonight," he whispered. "It’s my birthday. Tonight."
Arthur dropped the phone. He spun around toward the front door, his heart suddenly hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
"I'm great," Arthur said. "I just... I wanted to say I love you, Mike. I know we don't say it enough. But I do."
At 6:15 AM, he bought a donut from the 24-hour bodega. Glazed, the kind he used to eat as a kid before school. The cashier—a woman with gold rings on every finger—handed it to him and said, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Crisis hotline,” a voice said. Calm. Human. Real. “This is David. What’s going on tonight?”
The screen flickered. And then, in the same pale blue font, a sentence appeared that made his blood turn to ice:
October 14, 2023. Time: 11:59 PM.
October 15, 2023. Time: 12:20 AM. Seconds Remaining: 3.