Chapter 3 11

The 60-inch TV screen seems to be full of items destroyed when the army retreated. On the open field, there are scattered white debris. If you look closely, you will find that they are 212 dead people covered with white cloth. wreckage. The AS300 jetliner left New York's Westchester Airport at 11.50am this morning and plunged in clear blue skies two minutes later, crashing into the sports field in uptown Barry Hill. In the footage taken from the air, the wreckage of the plane about a quarter of a mile wide can be seen, as if a demon reached out and scraped off the whole piece, however, the white tail stood intact.The scattered debris around the crash site is unrecognizable. It turned out to be a modern airliner flying to Boston.

No survivors at all.The dark eyes of the blond female reporter were full of sadness, and she reported the tragic air crash in the shortest possible sentences.The National Transportation Safety Board had arrived hours earlier to find the badly damaged black box from Northeastern Airlines Flight 502.A press conference is expected at 9 p.m. These scenes that appeared earlier are constantly being replayed: hundreds of firefighters are desperately trying to control the burning fire, passengers' luggage is scattered all over the place, the firefighters hang their heads tiredly, their faces are covered with blackened dust, carrying Computers and iPods were strewn across the ground, an intact Yankees baseball cap lay on an undamaged field of grass, and badly damaged children's shoes, backpacks and briefcases were reminders of the fragility of life.

Inside the house, a flat-screen TV is placed on a mahogany shelf in a retro study; the bookshelves are filled with various books, from Shakespeare to car repair, from Dumas and Dumas to antique research;Leo.A large oil painting by Jean︱Leon Gerome, there are two Norman on the wall above the sofa.Norman Rockwell's paintings of returning WWII soldiers embracing loved ones; large leather chairs sit in front of an unlit fireplace, and a blue-spotted khaki Persian rug gives the place a 1940s-era feel. Gentleman style. Nick stood in the middle of the study, lost in thought for a moment, his legs trembling, and a low, monotonous rumbling sound in his ears.He grabbed the arm of the sofa chair as he fell backwards and sat down directly on the red leather upholstery.

His mouth tasted strange, bitter and metallic, as though he had lived through a strange nightmare; his lips were parched from gasping for breath.At this time, the room took on a golden hue, as if it was the afterimage left by some forgotten blinding light burning his eyes; he looked around, desperately trying to regain his sense of direction, and unconsciously bent his fingers, as if there was something Some invisible roar poured into his head.The overly intense sensory stimulation made him overwhelmed and lost the sense of space, but strictly speaking, what he lost was the sense of time. He looked around again, and these things finally became familiar.He recognized the monotonous rumble, the sound of the generator, and now that the whole area was without power, it was the generator that kept the house powered.

A name jumped into the mind: Marcus.Bennett.His best friend, his neighbor.This is his house, his study.Nick was here an hour ago and Marcus offered him sympathetic solace Then reality crushed him like a two-ton boulder. As soon as Nick closed his eyes, he could see her full lips, her flawless skin, her natural beauty.Her voice was still in his ears, as clear as speaking in front of him; the faint scent of lavender on her skin was vividly imprinted in his heart, all of which finally pushed him to the limit.He was possessed by grief, into a darkness he had never known.The darkness gripped him desperately.

Finally, Nick looked up and looked at the wreckage on the TV, seeing many broken body parts scattered like discarded objects.Death was all around him, and many people fell from happiness to hell on this day.Despite the horror of the events before him, he just wallowed in his grief, selfishly mourning his own tragedy. He picked up the TV remote, found the off button, and took one last look at the burning wreckage.At this time, he suddenly caught a glimpse of the time at the bottom of the screen, and then slowly shifted his gaze to the latest headlines. He walked to the front of the TV and saw a new time popping up again.Nick stared at the opaque TV station logo in the corner, and finally saw the image that made him panic.

He didn't notice it at all.The TV images were filled with too many unimaginable deaths and wreckage, too much information poured in, and his heart was in a mess.So he didn't notice it at all, and it was clearly located in the lower right, highlighted in white letters.This impossible information made him dizzy.The glowing numbers on the clock were reflected in the background of the news, and he looked at them twice, thinking he was dazzled or someone on the TV had made a mistake.He looked at the clock again: 8:15 p.m. Nick's eyes immediately jumped to his wrist. There was a white mark on the skin where he usually wore a watch. He remembered

He reached into his pocket and took out the letter.The envelope was milky white, with a smooth satin surface, and there was a delicate blue coat of arms in the left corner, with a dragon on it, and above the dragon was a lion's head, and the dragon's neck was pierced by a fine sword.Nick wasn't sure which club or school crest it was, or if it belonged to the stranger who had given him the letter. He reached into his pocket again and took out the pocket watch that the European gave him. He lifted the watch cover, and on the mirror-like silver metal was engraved in cursive Latin: Fugit inreparabile tempus.

Nick's eyes finally fell on the surface.An old Roman numeral clock showing fifteen minutes past eight.This sight surprised him for a while. He began to be interrogated at nine twenty, and he clearly remembered that the clock on the wall of the interrogation room was almost ten o'clock. He listened to the detective's questions, looked at the exquisite Colt pistol, and there was tension in the air. The atmosphere builds up, reaching its climax when he snatches Dance's 9mm pistol.At that moment, death was imminent. He remembered sitting in this room with Marcus an hour or so ago, drinking Scotch, the loss of Julia tearing at his heart.They sat together bewildered, sad and sad.He clearly remembered that all this was as clear as a slow-motion video. Marcus sat opposite him, reassuring him that everything would be fine, and then the dark door slowly opened. Two police detectives stood at the door with gloomy faces. Hand holds the butt of the gun.

It was in this room that he was arrested and handcuffed at nine o'clock. His memory seemed to be reversed, and the sequence of events was thrown out of order.He remembered that he was in the interrogation room before, he remembered that he saw the photos of Julia that Detective Shannon brought to him, and those photos made him lose his mind; he remembered that he was holding the detective's gun, Stalemate with them. But he couldn't remember what happened after Shano pulled the trigger. Nick shook his head, closed his pocket watch, and put it back in his pocket. He looked at the envelope again, praying secretly that the letter would answer the question in his mind.He tore open the envelope, took out two pages of off-white letter paper, and began to read.

□□□ Dear Nick! I hope you're no longer confused, though, you must be more confused by what's going on around you □□□ Nick read the two pages of the letter three times, then folded it and stuffed it in his breast pocket, not sure how he should feel, he just thought about how stupid he was to accept this, to allow this Impossible hopes grow in the heart. He is out of his mind. Detective Shano pushed the photos of Julia's death in front of him to force him to look at them. The photos were very real and hurt his whole body. Nick thought, he is really insane now, falling into hallucinations caused by longing middle.He was trapped in this dream, desperately trying to wake himself up. He took out the pocket watch that the European man gave him in the interrogation room, lifted the watch cover, and stared at the Roman numerals on it.For all his doubts, for all the implausibility of it all, there was no doubt that he was really standing here, and the time on the watch couldn't be wrong. It was not a figment of his imagination, nor a dream, that Nick had sat in this room drinking scotch with Marcus and mourning Julia's death.His tears were real, and the pain in his heart was real, and Marcus' words of comfort were still in his ears. He remembered, too, sitting in the Interrogation Room of the Barra Hill Police Station, enduring the questioning from Dance, looking at the weapon that had taken Julia from him;It was all true that Shanor had thrust the brutal pictures in front of him; for the nine minutes before ten o'clock, he had been watching the clock on the wall every moment. And yet here he was, staring at the little black hands on a pocket watch that looked at least a hundred years old, perfectly functioning, and showing the time at 8:15. Nick picked up the remote control from the antique table and pointed it at the TV, and a bunch of horrific scenes like horror movies appeared on the screen. The news in front of us is undoubtedly a serious tragedy. In the next few days, the relevant reports of the crash will surely shock all the people in the country.He suddenly understood that he was the only one who was crying for Julia when most of the world was mourning for the passengers of Northeast Flight 502. After a while, after he rationalized the irrationality, he began to think about the truth of the letter.What if it was possible to go back in time?Even if it was true, he had nothing to lose.If he accepts that everything said in the letter is true, if he is willing to accept that the current time is indeed 8:15, then maybe No matter how impossible it was, no matter whether he was really insane or not, if the words in the letter were true, this pocket watch really had this ability, and he might really be able to save her. The door of the room opened suddenly, and Marcus' huge body filled the doorway.He wore gray striped trousers, a blue Hermès tie, white shirt sleeves rolled up, and he had the stocky build of a lumberjack.As he entered the study, he held a wine glass in his claw-like hands. Neighbors for six years, Marcus and Nick weren't just casual acquaintances who would say hello as they drove by, they both loved hockey and would watch most Rangers games together at each other's homes; they were both passionate fans, Both played hockey in high school, but not at the pro level, and to make up for that unfulfilled wish and to continue the fun times of their youth, they played at the club every Wednesday night; Nick was goalie, Marcus his forever defensive players. Marcus is thirty-nine years old, seven years older than Nick. He has been trained as a lawyer and knows how to use the provisions of the law to acquire companies.He has done a very successful business and earned a lot of money at the age of thirty-two, but because of multiple divorces and endless alimony, his property has been greatly reduced.Still, he was one of the wealthiest men in the area; his eye for women was nothing compared to the professionalism he displayed when buying companies.Nick wasn't sure whether Marcus was blinded by lust or by the beauty of those women, but Marcus had a relatively poor eye for women.He was married three times and divorced three times, which took six years. Every time his marriage fails, Marcus will curse those women while burying his head in his work. He hates those women for blinding his reason, and even talks about going to be a priest when he is drunk. Because of his frequent emotional failures, he is not only very close to Nick, but also very close to Julia.She represents a voice of reason and comfort, like Marcus's own sister, helping him through his emotional trauma.She watched him go up and down like a roller coaster, from sad to angry to confused.Every time Marcus thinks he has found the love of his life, but this love always burns out faster than his latest contract. Marcus is currently pursuing a new girlfriend.Sheila is a former model, product spokesperson (except that no one knows which products she has endorsed, or whether she has actually modeled).She is stunningly beautiful, with thick black hair and deep chestnut eyes. Her appearance is in perfect contrast to Marcus' third wife Brissy. This fair-skinned beauty has only worn her wedding ring for eight months. Just leave with tens of millions of alimony. Marcus's teenage-grey hair has thinned to almost baldness now, and his imperfect nose has been broken three times on the ice while playing hockey.Marcus is not handsome at all. People will not remember his appearance. Such a face can easily disappear in the crowd and be forgotten by everyone.But his wealth and warm smile will still allow him to brave the battlefield of love and attract a group of women willing to help him overcome the insecurities caused by his failed marriage. Marcus silently handed the glass to Nick. The two did not speak. At this moment, the atmosphere was sad and heavy.Marcus' dark brown eyes were full of worry, and Nick looked at the glass quietly, lost in the tawny liquid and the smell of whiskey. I know you're not a drinker, Marcus' voice is low and commanding.But now all the rules don't apply. Nick picked up his glass and took a long swig. Marcus stretched out his hand and opened his palm, revealing two psychiatric medicines, which were Xanano.This is Sheila's medicine, she has three vials, and she has it too if you want to worry about it. Nick shook his head, dismissing the idea of ​​swallowing a whole bottle of pills and ending the nightmare. There were two detectives and a coroner there searching for evidence.They said the whole place would have to be assessed and photographed before Marcos could stop talking.to take her away. Nick knew all this, he knew exactly what was going to happen at this hour, he knew that in five minutes the black body bag would be rolled out on the gurney, and the gray-haired coroner would lead the way, and he knew too Well, the two detectives, one named Shannon and the other named Dance, will be walking into this room soon; and he also knows the lawyer Mitch.Shirov's business. Do you remember Mitch?Marcus asked.He seemed to be able to read Nick's mind.He came with us last year to watch the Red Wings take on the Rangers. The man, Nick remembered, was a nasty big-mouthed, talkative, self-righteous man.But worst of all, he often gets what he says. He's the best lawyer I've ever met and I was going to call him; he's a Red Sox fan who bet me last night that the Yankees would lose and now owes me a thousand dollars.Don't make things difficult for him because of this matter.This sentence is exactly the same as what Marcus said before, and it is exactly the same as what Nick remembers. Anyway, he's the best criminal lawyer in New York.Marcus continued: It takes a lawyer with his personality to put an end to those people's nonsense and fight back against those unfounded accusations. But Nick also remembered that Mitch didn't make it to the police station in time. But let me tell you, he has a problem: he's not very punctual.I could call him first, which is really not a problem at all, because you don't need to talk to a bunch of poorly educated cops who only have basketball games and American Idol on their minds. Marcus walked to the large leather-covered desk and picked up the phone. Nick watched him dial, thinking about what he would say.He thought, should he let Marcus share his nervousness that almost collapsed? Wait before you make that call.Nick cut him off. Marcus stopped and slowly put down the microphone. I don't know what to say. Nick paused, which seemed to make Marcus a little uncomfortable.But I have to find out who did it. Marcus walked around the desk.They'll find out, and the beast will pay for it. No, I gotta I gotta stop him. stop him?Marcus looked confused. I have to find that person. Marcus stared at him blankly, listened quietly, and then paused for a moment, thinking about what to say.Leave this to the police!Someone who would do such a thing must be a dangerous person. She is not dead.Nick blurted out. Marcus sighed, remaining calm.I feel sorry for you, she really is a perfect woman, really, if the word perfect has a synonym, that synonym is Julia. Nick put the glass on the table and rubbed his face slowly with his hands.He tried to concentrate on whether he should jump into the abyss of madness. I can save her.Nick replied.He decided to accept the illogical situation. Marcus sat there, patiently watching his best friend lose his mind. I can't explain it, and I don't know how, but I can save her. Marcus looked at Nick all the time, without anger, without reproach.His eyes are full of pain and heartbreak, as if he is trying to imagine how much Nick and Julia love each other, and trying to understand that the pain caused by such a deep love must be more serious. What if I told you I could see the future?Nick said. Are you going to tell me the Yankees are going to win the whole year?Marcus didn't quite understand what Nick was going to say. Nick looked at the fireplace, thinking about how to go on. Sorry, Marcus said: I didn't mean to No, it's okay, Nick turned and stared at his buddy.This thing sounds crazy but listen to me, it won't be long before they come in and arrest me, take me to the police station, make me confess to something I didn't do, show me something I never saw gun. Marcus showed a nervous look. I didn't kill her, Marcus, I loved her more than myself.She is like the air I live on, she gives me warmth and makes me happy.Now I am willing to exchange positions with her at all costs, and exchange my life for hers. As long as it can bring her back to life, I am willing to do anything. I know you didn't do it, Marcus said sympathetically: You are upset now, it doesn't matter, I understand.The two sat quietly for a while. Finally, Marcus finally turned around and went to make a phone call.I'm going to call Mitch, you should talk to him. He was too late. Too late? They'll come for me Nick reached into his pocket and took out the gold watch and lifted the cover. where did you get it In thirteen minutes they'll be coming for me.Nick closed the gold watch and stuffed it back into his pocket. What?This is unreasonable!Marcus shook his head suspiciously.They can't catch you. It's Shano and Dance. What did you say? Shano and Detective Dance.Those two detectives who are in my house right now will come and arrest me later. When the two detectives had pulled into the driveway earlier, Marcus had walked over to say hello and introduce himself before showing them Julia's body.They told him he'd better stay at home until they finished their work; they asked about Nick and said they had to speak to Nick after they had finished their preliminary investigation; Tell him your name. do you know themMarcus asked puzzled. Didn't know, or should I say, I didn't see them before they handcuffed me. Marcus looked at him in surprise.You mean you know what's going to happen? Nick nodded. All right!Marcus fell silent.He put down the phone and sat down on the high-back sofa chair next to Nick.The sympathy in the eyes increased tenfold.I don't think it's possible for you to tell me what they're wearing? Dance wears a cheap blue tracksuit.Nick says their outfits right away.White shirt, wrinkled tan trousers; Shano is a muscular jerk in an undersized black polo shirt and faded jeans. Marcus tilted his head, took a deep breath, and slowly digested what Nick said.He got up from his chair, went to the window, and looked through the shutters at Nick's house.He could see the vehicles, and from here he should be able to clearly see the two cops coming out of the car parked in Nick's driveway, so Nick could easily see them, but Marcus didn't want to be in his friend's house. Argue with him in a state of insanity. Listen to me, Nick is getting more and more excited.i'm not crazy yankees Why are we talking about the Yankees?Marcus began to worry. They're playing now, and they'll win Game 9 in the bottom half of Nick's voice when he suddenly realizes how stupid it sounds and hangs his head in frustration. The two sat in silence for a while. Suddenly, however, Nick looked up again.His ring finger is missing below the second knuckle on the ring finger of Dance's right hand. Marcus remained silent. You know, there's no way I can see this from your window.Nick wants to relieve Marcus' doubts.Did you have a good time at the Jersey Shore, you ask him? Marcus walked out from the side door of the house and stepped into the late summer sunset.He grieved for his friend, and Julia was so close to him, she knew him and healed him again and again; she understood his mistakes and his worries, weaknesses and pain, and she He never refused his request for help. Julia and Nick have a deep affection for each other, and the two of them have the love of his dreams.They are the standard by which he judges every marriage, even though he knows before he says I do, before he commits to die, that his marriage will never compare to theirs.The two seemed one, Julia and Nick, or Nick and Julia; rarely separated by name, always together in their spare time, putting each other first. To see her body lying on the floor, so brutally taken from her life, was almost debilitating.Who would do such a cruel thing?Who would take away an innocent life like this, and take away a husband's reason to live? When Julia died, the bullet hit Nick as well.He has a mental breakdown, refuses to believe in reality, and fantasizes about changing the past and saving Julia.This is the fantasy of a severely traumatized man who has lost his mind. At the time of the incident, Marcus was standing in the garage, looking for some documents in the rear compartment, when he suddenly heard gunshots coming from Quinn's house.At that moment a chill ran down his spine; he ran quickly past the two open garage doors, passed the coat closet door and saw Julia lying askew by the back stairs; half her face was gone Marcus tried his best not to spit it out, his heart was filled with grief and horror.He stepped over her body and saw Nick sitting on the floor next to her, stroking her leg like a child who didn't know death. Now, Marcus walked calmly across the spacious side yard to Nick's house, but this time he had no reason to run, and nothing could bring Julia back to life. The coroner's truck and two unmarked police cars were parked in the driveway.Generally speaking, a sudden incident in a town that has had no murders in twenty-five years must have attracted a large number of police forces. However, now every policeman in the police station, even the back office, the secretary and the counter staff, went to the crash site went.All the firefighters, first responders, commissioners, and the town doctor were called out.Fortunately, the civil servants in this high-end residential area responded quickly like professionals who dealt with disasters. Every available person went to the National Transportation Safety Board to fully assist, whether it was helping the families of the victims, searching for plane wreckage and dismembered bodies, or To deal with administrative chores, the entire town of Barry Hill had to go to the disaster site three miles away, so only two detectives could be freed up to deal with Julia's case. Nick and Julia lived on three acres, one of the few large parcels of land that hadn't been subdivided.Their house was built in the 1890s and expanded in 1927, 1997 and 2007.The previous main house was a 5,000-square-foot high-priced farmland, which can be regarded as a rather grand house; paintings and souvenirs are hung in each room, showing the taste of the previous owner; but it is not like a general mansion is just a museum The exhibition room, their house is designed for ordinary families to live in, Marcus has always thought that this house will be full of children's laughter.But when he got in from the yellow warning tape at the crime scene, opened the kitchen door, and stepped into the white and spacious kitchen, Marcus knew clearly that not only would there be no children's voices in this house, Nick would probably never return. to this home. Marcus walked through the restaurant and stopped involuntarily when he heard the detective's voice in the lobby.He stood for a while before backing away, feeling as if he was being dragged along by an invisible force.Although he couldn't bear to see Julia's body again, he couldn't help but craned his neck and looked towards the cloakroom where her body lay. The gray-haired coroner bent over the zipper of the black body bag and took out a black marker pen to write on the label of the body bag. This emotionless action seemed to be filling out a grocery list.The man's black eyebrows contrasted sharply with his white hair, and his stooped body and weathered skin made him look at least seventy-five years old.Marcus guessed that many retired doctors, examiners, and coroners must have been called in today to deal with the mountain of dead bodies at Barry Hill. Marcus could vaguely see Julia's figure in the black body bag, and he wondered if the undertaker would be able to reconstruct her face so that her husband could see her one last time and say his last farewell. There was still a large pool of blood on the floor, and there were still broken and fuzzy flesh and bones on the wall behind, and a few strands of hair were flying in the invisible breeze.All the manpower went to the crash site, no one will be here to clean up the innocent victims for a few days.This is not enough, he has to call to find someone in the city to take care of everything.While those men were cleaning up the scene, he would help arrange the funeral for Nick, who was too restless now to deal with such trivial matters. Hello!The sound startled Marcus, and his thoughts returned to reality. What are you doing here?Xia Nuo asked: We just told you that you and her husband should wait next door for us to finish. I thought Marcus looked around.I thought you guys were done. This is a crime scene, and it's just the two of us, and we've got to take all the fingerprints and investigate everything ourselves.It will count when I say yes. Feel sorry.Marcus walked back to the kitchen door.I go back to the next door. Damn, where is Quinn?I thought you were going to be with him all the time.Shannon paused, suddenly tensed up.Is he the type to run away? escape?Why run away?His wife is dead, and now he can't even stand upright. I said, and the detective held up a finger.Now that you're all here, let's talk! The detective turned and walked towards the living room, as if this was his home, and he motioned for Marcus to follow him.It won't take too long. Marcus nodded.As long as the murderer can be caught, I can do anything.He spotted another policeman coming in after him, though he chose not to turn to look. You said earlier that you knew the deceased and her husband very well.How familiar are you guys? We are very good friends, I am very close to both of them.Marcus replied. Is one of them having an affair? You are going too far in saying that.Marcus suddenly wanted to strangle the policeman who asked such a stupid question. We had to ask, Dance said from behind him.Where were you when Mrs. Quinn was shot? I told you, next door, in my own garage, I was going out to dinner when I heard gunshots and rushed over. Is someone with you? No, but I was on the phone with my girlfriend, she was in California for the weekend, you can check. Nick.What is the relationship between Quinn and the deceased?Shano asked. Her name is Julia.Marcus suddenly spoke.He tried hard to control his anger.They are very close, even more in love than when they were newlyweds. Are any of them emotional? No, in fact, they are very gentle.Marcus still can't believe that Julia is gone, and he can't even get used to the fact that he won't hear her voice again. In this case, why did he kill her? Marcus couldn't answer for a while, he thought he heard it wrong. What reason does he have to do this?Xia Nuo continued to question Marcus.Can you think of a reason, is it for money, or is it out of jealousy? Nick couldn't possibly kill her.Marcus said: It was impossible for him to beat her, let alone shoot her. The evidence says otherwise.Dance held up a large clear plastic bag containing an exquisite pistol that looked like it belonged to royalty; the ivory stock was studded with gold and lots of jewels. Do you know why he hides this expensive weapon in the compartment? Marcus was stunned when he saw it.He never knew Nick had the gun.It couldn't be his. Danse put the pistol into the plastic case without saying a word, and turned to Marcus. Believe it or not, Shano said: I think he did it.If he has a lawyer, I suggest you call a lawyer and I'm going to interrogate this guy until he pleads guilty.Believe me, I don't have time for lies these days. Marcus looked at the policeman and suddenly remembered why he came here.He looks at the detective's tight shirt and jeans and thinks he's an asshole.He looked at the detective's right hand, but all five fingers were there. You're detective dance, right?Marcus asked. No, I'm Robert.Shano, he is Dance.Shano pointed at his partner.They are going into the kitchen. Feel sorry.Marcus turned to Dance.Did I see you on the Jersey Shore? I don't think so.Dance stared at him suspiciously and shook his head.Why do you ask about this? I thought I hate Jersey Shore.Dance said displeasedly as he walked into the cloakroom. Marcus watches as Dance walks to Julia's body bag.He took off the plastic gloves, bent over to help Shano and the white-haired coroner carry the black body bag onto the gurney, Marcus looked at the costumes of Shano and Danse again, and it was indeed exactly the same as Nick described, but maybe Nick saw it from the window and then forgot about it.Judging by his fragile state of mind at this time, he is likely to hide in the reality of his fantasy. Marcus looked at the black body bag containing Julia, and suddenly felt distraught, and he still couldn't accept the fact that she was dead.But what surprised Marcus the most was that when his eyes returned to Dans, who was pushing a gurney out the door, his eyes fell on the detective's right hand his ring finger. The part below the second joint is gone. Nick sat motionless in Marcus' study.He had read the letter three times, and he was in utter bewilderment.There was no logic to what the European had written, but Nick thought he had lost his mind as well.How did he get here?How could such a thing happen?Nick is not a superstitious person, nor does he believe in the paranormal, myths, legends or aliens.He didn't believe in lucky copper plates, rabbit feet (the belief that rubbing rabbit feet can bring good luck is popular in the American continent), bad luck or broken mirrors, but as long as he can save Julia, he now Willingly accept it all, and proclaim every virtue of superstition. He got up and walked around in the study, casually looking at the photos on the bookshelf.A couple of framed pictures were of Sheila, a couple of older pictures were apparently cut from photos with previous wives, and two other frames were empty.Finally, his eyes fell on the photo of him, Julia, and Marcus holding hands together, which was displayed in the middle of the bookshelf, and all three of them were smiling.Nick couldn't remember whether it was Brissie or Dana who took the photo, but he didn't care, it was a happy time, before the murder or the crash, and the happiness seemed to last forever. Nick finally detached himself from the picture.He worried that he would be overwhelmed by sadness again, so he turned to look out the window.Fear reignited as he watched Detectives Shannon and Dance help the white-haired coroner push Julia's black body bag out of the house and onto the truck. Marcus stood in the driveway watching her being loaded into the truck, his head hanging sadly.The two detectives turned to Marcus, and then the three of them walked slowly through the huge side yard between the two houses. Nick really wanted to escape, but he didn't know where he could escape. No matter how fast or how far he escaped, his fate was already doomed.He took out the pocket watch from his pocket, lifted the watch cover, and saw that the time on it was 8:55, and he fell into thought after seeing the time. He took out the letter from his pocket, read the incredible contents of the letter slowly and carefully, trying to digest the meaning like reading the Bible. □□□ Dear Nick! I hope you're no longer confused, though you must be more confused by what's going on around you now that you're right back where you were at eight o'clock tonight. There are many things in life that are incomprehensible, and I can only say this: the death of innocent people is very unfair. Losing someone we love leaves us with untold pain and confusion over a cruel fate. □□□ Nick couldn't help but look out the window at the truck carrying the cold black body bags. □□□ A simple selfish act will reflect back on time and life, thus taking the life of a stranger.Our loved one may face death, but she may never know or understand the moment or the impact of which event.However, if this moment does not happen, if it can be found in advance and canceled, the trajectory of the life it affects can be changed, corrected, and maybe a life can be saved. 你現在站在某個房間裡，在一個從你記憶中抽出來的瞬間，你想，也許是因為魔法，或是某位神祇的干預，不過我向你保證，兩者皆非。 你現在正在今晚八點鐘所在的房間，再一次度過那個鐘頭。不過，這一次你能隨心所欲地做自己想做的事，你之前如果是右轉，現在可以左轉；先前說不，現在可以說好。沒有人會知道有何不同，也沒有人會經歷跟你一樣的現象。你可以自由選擇合適的方向，改變你先前經歷過的未來。 你得到了一個禮物，尼克，一個能讓你重新度過十二個小時的禮物。 你必須特別注意，因為這時間非常短暫： 每個鐘頭，在金錶的分針指到十二時，你就會回到兩小時前，然後重新度過你生命中的那一個小時。 向前一步，退後兩步。 這種現象會重複整整十二次，不多也不少，直到你回到今天早上的十點鐘。 你每次回到過去，就有了一次機會找到事件發生的原因，解救你的妻子。我就不再講解這些技術性的問題，我只是要告訴你，每次時間倒退，你就會回到兩個小時前那個的地點，重新度過那一個小時。 但請注意，每一個選擇都跟你在正常的生活中一樣，在我們做抉擇的那一刻，都無法了解這可能會造成什麼樣的影響。你有能力救茱莉亞，有能力把你的生活導回正軌，但請記住這個警告，你現在冒險進行的路線充滿不確定性，做任何選擇之前都務必仔細思考，才不會讓你未來的生活失去平衡，或影響他人的生存。 至於，為什麼是你得到這個禮物、我的身分是什麼、怎麼會發生這些事情，此時這些都不重要，請放心，時候到了你自然就會知道。 願上帝保佑你，並記住：時光飛逝，一去不復返。 附註：請妥善保管這封信和懷錶，千萬注意，絕不能讓錶離身，如果錶丟了，或遭到毀損，你就會被困在那個時間，跟其他人一樣，繼續在那個時間流裡前進，解救茱莉亞便再無可能。 （註：文末有五行形狀奇特的文字，無法呈現。） □□□ 一個人若面對必輸的狀況、最黑暗的未來，便會摒棄邏輯，投向信仰、禱告等神祕之物，會說服自己，有更強大的神祇對他伸出援手。這常發生在最絕望、最危急的時候，有可能是商場，甚至在戰場上。在對抗敵人之際，軍人會祈求上帝讓他獲勝，卻不明白他的對手也祈求得到救贖，兩人甚至很可能是對同一個上帝禱告。人會為了愛情對星星許願，信心滿滿地將一塊銅板丟進水池裡，認為這樣就能贏得彩券。人們也會摸摸兔子腳，期望自己喜愛的橄欖球隊能贏得超級杯。 所以，尼克也開始相信手中這只懷錶的力量，相信陌生人信裡寫的雖說他完全搞不懂出現在這封信最底下的是什麼語言，但他相信，只要他努力一點，應該就能阻止那名殺手，能救茱莉亞免於一死。只要他撐到九點，就能確定這一線希望是否純屬空想，確定他的信心是否放錯了地方，是不是注定又要重新經歷在偵訊室內的那場磨難。雖然這似乎有點愚蠢，但他也只能把希望寄託於此。 尼克突然回過神來，衝出書房，穿過兩層樓高的大理石門廳來到大門口。他扣上插鎖，急忙穿過客廳的落地窗，來到後陽臺。他成功鎖上後門和車庫門之後，又跑回書房，關上沉重的紅木門，緊緊鎖住。他很慶幸馬可仕在書房的門上安裝了插鎖。在書房內門上裝鎖雖然很奇怪，但既然裡面有一幅尚．Leo.傑洛米的大型油畫和兩幅諾曼．洛克威爾的畫，裝鎖一點也不奇怪。 尼克又看了看懷錶。八點五十八分。 他們來了，他聽到他們敲打著上鎖的大門。 尼克走到觀景窗去關上百葉窗，他將葉片往下翻轉，不讓外面看到屋裡的任何動靜。 他聽到大門被踢開，像地震般轟隆作響，馬可仕的聲音在宛如洞穴般的大理石豪華門廳中響著，他一定是在氣大門被踢壞的事。 書房門口傳來敲門聲。 nick.馬可仕模糊的聲音從門外傳來。是我，我打電話給米契了，他會到警局去跟我們會面。不過這兩個傢伙要你跟他們走而且，他們要你馬上出來。 尼克沉默不語，看看書房四周，又盯著手中的懷錶，上面顯示八點五十九分。 聽著，我會陪著你，馬可仕的語氣中充滿關懷。我跟你保證，我們一定會解決這一切。 尼克還是全神貫注地盯著懷錶。 尼克，馬可仕在門外說：我不知道究竟發生了什麼事，不過我相信你，我相信你 夠了，夏諾打斷他。昆恩，馬上把門打開。 尼克坐在原位，目不轉睛地看著懷錶，秒針的速度緩慢無比。三十秒過去了，現在只要再等三十秒。 尼克，拜託你開門好不好？我沒有鑰匙，這兩個混蛋已經毀掉我的大門了。 尼克繼續盯著錶，好像它可以突然把他變到別的時空，這錶是個聖物，會顯示出未來的真貌。 給我閃一邊去。夏諾對馬可仕吼：昆恩，你只有五秒鐘。 尼克繼續盯著滴答響的懷錶，房門砰地打開，夏諾的腳踢壞鎖和木門，碎片飛濺。他衝進門時已拔出手槍，緊握在面前。丹斯也拿著武器緊跟在他身後。 趴在地上。這名激動的警探高喊。 尼克及時把懷錶放進口袋，夏諾伸手抓住他的肩膀，把他壓倒在波斯地毯上。 Damn it!馬可仕怒吼，抓住夏諾的肩膀把他從尼克身邊拉走。do not do that. 夏諾轉過身朝馬可仕下巴揍了一拳，馬可仕毫不猶豫地把全身氣力注入他的拳頭，重重地打在夏諾的鼻子上，他的鼻子頓時鮮血狂噴。 尼克轉身，把這一切全部隔絕，他的心已經抽離，專注在口袋中的錶，在腦中倒數著九點整前的秒數。 他周圍的暴力事件持續進行，馬可仕大吼一聲，壓到夏諾身上，尼克仍繼續數著。 three two one