The Day Before by Liana Brooks

because I don’t know where my parents’ house is. My mother was too busy to talk, and my dad . . .” She let the sentence drop. “I don’t do normal relationships.”
    â€œYou don’t do relationships at all,” Bri argued.
    â€œI dated Joseph!”
    â€œWhile working with him on a case . . . and then you dumped him.”
    Sam rolled her eyes. “He was cheating on me.”
    â€œWhich is a good reason for dumping him, I agree. But it isn’t the same as dating multiple ­people.”
    â€œYeah, well, I dated one guy, and it ended badly. I have every right to be gun-­shy.”
    Bri shrugged. “I’m just saying, it wouldn’t hurt to give the males of the world a second chance. It’s okay to live a little first.” She eyed the crop of locals. “Maybe not these ones . . .”
    â€œYeah.” Sam finished her drink and eyed the dance floor.
    â€œOne more drink?” Brileigh asked.
    â€œOne more, then we salsa.” One little salsa before she left wouldn’t hurt.
    D inner was cheese sticks with pepperoni as she tried to get the laundry under control. Images of the day kept replaying in her head. Images of images, even; Melody Chimes—­a younger version of her older sister—­in the graduation gown, in a bridesmaid dress, out at dinner with her friends.
    Hoss whined, and she let him out as her work folder beeped. Sam flipped the folder open, scrolling down to look at the new notes. MacKenzie had tagged a photo to the bottom of the file: Jane Doe 756584347183, found February 11, 2068, a dark-­skinned young woman wearing a silvery sage-­green shirt with black slacks. Part of a broken pencil with the letters A-­U-­B was found in her hair.
    Saints and angels. . .
    Except for the evidence of a brutal beating, Jane Doe-­183 was a physical match for Melody Chimes. She wrote a note back to MacKenzie. “Report acknowledged. Prep JD-­183 case files. Argue to exhume body and open case for reevaluation in the morning.”
    She salsa-­ed tonight. Tomorrow, she tangoed with a year-­old corpse.

 
    CHAPTER 9
    It takes a very strong person to see a parallel world for what it is: an illusion. The average person can’t walk into a false reality, remove the einselected Nodes, and step out again unchanged. We are not looking for the average person.
    ~ From Colonel Aina’s speech to incoming cadets at the Ministry of Defense War College I1–2072
    Thursday May 30, 2069
    Alabama District 3
    Commonwealth of North America
    M ac trudged from the morgue to the main bureau building through the sweltering morning heat. The summer warmth didn’t seep to the bone. Even with the temperature pushing triple digits, all he could feel was the cold. His head spun a little; the lack of sleep was catching up with him. But sleep meant pills, and pills meant another chewing out from Agent Perfect.
    It really was a shame the army had downsized after unification. That woman was born to be a drill sergeant. Somewhere, a very lucky private first class was missing out on a whole set of erotic fantasies featuring Agent Rose. And here he was taking medications that impacted libido.
    Maybe going off the pills won’t be such a bad thing. I could use a fantasy or two.
    Showing his ID to the frowning secretary—­ I wonder if she frowns at everyone, or just ­people who look like they’ve woken up in a Dumpster —­Mac took the stairs at a slow pace. A wave of vertigo made the building tilt out from under him. He leaned against the wall with his eyes closed.
    From around the corner he heard Marrins shout, “I don’t care what you think, this needs to get done. Emir, do I care about that? No. I’m doing everything I can on my end.” The senior agent’s door slammed shut.
    Shuddering, Mac pushed himself off the wall and shuffled to the conference room. Agent Perfect