At thirteen seconds in, a shadow detached itself from the lamplight and crossed the pavement. It moved wrong, not by gait but by intent: it performed the errands of a person but with the serene certainty of a thing that had watched those errands a thousand times. The shadow paused beneath the window of a café that had closed years before. Mara's breath hitched. In the reflection, the camera caught a face — not quite a face, more the suggestion of one stitched out of negative space. It smiled.