Tvaikonu Str. 5, Lv1007, Riga, Latvia Better Here

Inside, time had collapsed. A radio played a soft, crackling waltz from no visible source. On a Formica table sat nine place settings. Nine cups of tea, still steaming. Nine plates with untouched rye bread and herring. Nine chairs. And on each chair, a folded document—the same as the one she'd found. Same names. Same address. Same date: 1941. gada 14. jūnijs.

She woke on the floor of an empty apartment. Dust. Rot. Cold. The radio gone. The place settings gone. Her phone had one bar. The screen showed 11:47 AM, June 14, 2024. Exactly 83 years to the hour after the deportations. tvaikonu str. 5, lv1007, riga, latvia

She pushed the front door. It groaned open. Inside, time had collapsed

Her own name.