# Chapter One: Ten Strangers, Seven Pieces Each

7:42 AM — Marcus Chen

The blueprint on Marcus's desk still had the same problem it had at midnight: the stairwell didn't fit. Forty-two floors of luxury condos and the fire code wanted him to sacrifice a corner unit to make it legal. He rubbed his eyes under his glasses, reached for his coffee, and found it cold.

"Fine," he muttered to the empty office. "We'll move the stairwell."

He blinked.

7:42 AM — Priya Raghavan

Priya was three minutes into her shift and already behind. Room 6 needed a new IV, room 9's family wanted answers she didn't have yet, and the vending machine on the third floor had eaten her dollar again.

"Come on," she said, smacking the machine with the heel of her hand. "I need this."

The granola bar dropped. She bent to grab it.

And then she wasn't in the hallway anymore.

7:43 AM — Dolores Fuentes

Lola had been retired for six years and still woke up at six. Old habits. She was in her garden, pulling weeds out from around her tomatoes, when her knees reminded her she was sixty-one.

"Okay, okay," she told the plants. "I hear you."

She sat back on her heels to catch her breath. The morning light was doing that gold thing it did in September. She smiled at it.

Then the light changed, and so did everything else.

7:44 AM — Tyler Brooks

Tyler was on the last lap of his morning run when his phone buzzed in his armband. His coach. Probably about the meet on Saturday. Probably about his split times. Tyler pushed harder, legs burning, the track blurring under him.

He was twenty-two and had never lost a race he cared about.

He looked up to check the clock tower.

There was no clock tower. There was no track.

7:44 AM — Anastasia Volkov

Ana had been teaching ballet for fifteen years, and she could still spot a lazy plié from across the studio. "Elena," she called, not unkindly, "your knees. Again."

The girl fixed it. Ana nodded. She was forty-one, her hair pulled back so tight it made her scalp ache, and she loved this room more than almost anything.

She turned to cue the music.

The stereo wasn't there. The mirrors weren't there. Neither was Elena.

7:45 AM — Kwame Osei

Kwame had driven …