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Elias threw a crumpled twenty-dollar bill on the table and ran for his car. He didn’t know how the files were being pushed to his phone, or why the timestamp claimed the sun was setting when it was barely late afternoon. He only knew that the digital trail was the only thread he had left.

It was a woman standing on the edge of a cliff, her back to the camera. She was wearing a yellow raincoat that seemed to glow against the darkening sky. Download IMG 1618853906723 jpg

He looked back at the woman in the yellow coat. She was holding something in her hand—a small, rectangular object. A camera? No, it was too thin. It looked like a postcard. Suddenly, his phone buzzed again. Another notification. Elias threw a crumpled twenty-dollar bill on the

“Haystack Rock,” he whispered. Canon Beach. But that was eighty miles north. It was a woman standing on the edge

He opened it. This one was a close-up of the postcard. On the back, in handwriting he would recognize in a sensory deprivation tank, were four words: “Stop looking. Start driving.”