Chapter 1: The Woman at the Cart
New York was loud in the way only New York could be—sirens folding into traffic, steam rising from vents, footsteps never slowing. Between it all, a small food cart stood under a flickering streetlight on the edge of a crowded block.
Hot dogs. Pretzels. Soda in plastic cups.
The woman behind the cart smiled like she belonged to the noise.
“Fresh food,” she said softly. “Hot and ready.”
Two police officers slowed as they passed. One of them, Officer Kane, sniffed the air.
“Smells better than the station food,” he said.
His partner, Officer Ruiz, smirked. “That’s not hard.”
They approached the cart.
“What’s good?” Kane asked.
The woman’s smile didn’t change. “Everything.”
She handed them two hot dogs with practiced ease. Polite. Calm. Too calm.
Ruiz took a bite. “Alright… not bad.”
For a moment, it was ordinary.
Then the cart shifted.
A subtle roll. Not from wind.
From inside.
The woman noticed their eyes drop.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
Kane stared at the cart. “It moved.”
She laughed lightly. “Old wheels.”
But the air had already changed.
