Detective Leah Thompson presses pause. Not on the episode — on her life.

Leah doesn’t sleep that night. She watches the episode three times. Each viewing changes. New angles. New clues. New faces — victims she’d forgotten, suspects she’d cleared too fast.

Then the screen goes black. Text appears: “What The Bay buried, this disc remembers.”

That’s her father’s old address. He’s been dead ten years.

By dawn, the disc ejects itself. A sticky note slides out of the player: “Episode 4 is at 1422 Harbor Lane.”

The disc menu hums. A slow pan across dusk-lit boardwalks. Seagulls cry over cold coffee cups and coiled police tape.