At first, she thought it was a prank. The famous author was known for his intricate thrillers and the legendary Red Queen, Antonia Scott. But the man sitting in Room 402 wasn’t a storyteller; he was a riddle. He had been found wandering near the Prado Museum, clutching a worn leather notebook, repeating a single phrase: "The clock has stopped in the White City."

The lights in the hospital flickered and died. In the sudden darkness, the sound of a heavy door clicking shut echoed through the ward. Mara realized then that this wasn't a medical case. She was inside a plot that had already been written, and according to the rules of a Gómez-Jurado thriller, no one was ever truly safe until the final page.

He didn't look at her. He began to write feverishly in the air with his finger. "You don't understand, Mara. I didn't invent Antonia. I found her. And now, the people who were looking for her have found me."

"It’s just a story, Juan," she said, her voice clinical and calm.

He finally looked at her, a terrifyingly sharp grin spreading across his face. "Is it? Check your pocket."

Mara reached into her white lab coat. Her fingers brushed against something cold and metallic. She pulled out a small, silver pin—a chess piece. A red queen.