Clockwork decided to go out for a walk. The time was 18:42, and it was winter. Many people were walking on the playgrounds or along the street—young couples with children and old ladies carrying packages. Clockwork was lost in thought, planning to visit an antique toy store to buy herself a small gift for the new year. She didn't usually care much for such things, but why not treat herself? Last year she'd done nothing special, just cooked herself dinner and cleaned the house.

Clockwork rarely paid attention to her surroundings, but something felt off. Everyone seemed to be going about their business, each with their own direction, yet there was an undeniable strangeness in the air that Clockwork, sensitive to oddities, could feel strongly. She turned around and noticed a small alley nearby with an urn, cigarette butts, and garbage scattered across the snow-covered ground. The road beyond was busy with cars and pedestrians.

Clockwork tried to figure out what was bothering her when suddenly a girl crashed into her. The girl was running in a panic—fleeing from her husband. She'd planned to escape, but he'd discovered her plans and intercepted her at the airport. He wasn't far behind, so she'd run as fast as she could until colliding with Clockwork, sending both girls tumbling to the ground.

Clockwork, who had landed underneath, felt the impact sharply. At first disoriented, she quickly composed herself when she saw the girl's terrified face. She helped the stranger to her feet, then dragged her into the alley and positioned herself to hide the girl, making it look like she was just smoking or talking on the phone. Speaking quietly but calmly, though her expression showed her displeasure at this sudden interruption, Clockwork asked, "Are you hurt? Why are you looking like this on the street? You're not even wearing shoes... Have you been robbed? How are you feeling?"