Aman sat frozen in his leather chair as Nikita stood before him. But something felt wrong to Aman disturbingly wrong. The panicked trembling girl who screamed into the phone, the same girl that was scared just a moment ago was gone.

  In her place stood a calm, almost robotic nurse, her face a mask of professional indifference. "Why is she so calm? Aman wondered, his grip tightening on the armrests. She sounded like the world was ending on the phone. Now she looked like she is reciting a grocery list,

  "Sir." Nikita began, her voice steady. "Regarding your surgery yesterday....do you remember which room the patient was taken to afterward?' Aman didn't even have to think. "He was taken to the special care unit, Room 365. i watched the nurses wheel him in myself. Why are you asking me all this?"

  Nikita tilted her head slightly, a flicker of something-was it pity? crossing her eyes, "well sir....you might have been mistaken. There is no one in that room. Room 365 has been empty for three days." "What do you mean, empty?

  Aman snapped standing up so quickly his chair hit the wall. "The surgery was a success! I spent four hours in that theater! we took him to 345 because he was high risk!" As the words left his mouth, a sickening image flashed in his mind: the pale man at the temple gates.

  The haunting smile, The ancient eye "was it really him?" Aman's internal voice was a frantic whisper. "No, Impossible. He was was under the heaviest dose of anesthesia we have. No human being wakes up from that and walks to the temple in the same afternoon. it's biologically impossible." But his body was already betraying his logic.

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  His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. His hands began to shake, and that unnatural morgue-like cold began to seep back into his bones. "Nikita," he said, his voice dropping to a low dangerous growl.

  "Look at me. Did i operate yesterday or not? "Yes sir, you did," she replied instantly. "Your signature is right here on the Anesthesia supply form." "Anesthesia supply form" Aman mind raced." I didn't sign a supply form. The drugs were already prepped when i walked in. I never sign those until the post....operation report, wait!, Aman said, a cold sweat breaking on his neck.

  "Tell me exactly what time that operation took place." Nikita looked down at her clipboard. "The patient was brought in with severe, acute chest pain in 7:45 AM. You began the procedure at 8:00 AM sharp, sir you were finished by 10:00 AM. A clean, two hour window."

  Aman felt the world tilt. The blood drained from his face, leaving him as pale as the monk. "Two hours?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "8:00 in the morning? severe heart pain?" He looked at the photo on his desk-the one of his father and Sophie. The logic he had built upon was shattering into a thousand broken pieces.

  "The patient had a chronic clogged heart," Aman said, more to himself than to her. "The operation started at 10:00AM. It last four hours. i remember the sun moving....i remember the clock.....i remember....." But the records didn't care what he remembered. The hospital didn't care about his truth.

  In the city of eternal gods, time had stopped being a straight line, and just fallen thorough the gap.