This is a city filled with debris. When the murder occurred, the forensic examiner used a spectrometer to measure the curvature of the fiber. The forensic examiner calibrated the time scale in the fading of the corpse spots, and the police traced the trajectory along the fault lines of the surveillance video. They are puzzle craftsmen, leaning in the gaps between neon lights and shadows, picking up the fragments of glass, blood scabs, and lies one by one, and using scientific glue to glue them together into the shape of the truth.
No one knows when the next piece of debris will fall, just as no one can predict how those biting edges will cut through the guise of humanity. But they always stood in the center of the scattered puzzle pieces, carrying the calluses and scars on their palms, waiting for the first ray of morning light to spread over the edges of the puzzle pieces, illuminating the shapes that were deliberately hidden.
