Before the sun rises in Lisbon, rain slicks a narrow alley. A secret arrives, folded into a paper crane. A street sweeper named Marta finds it—a fragile thing, smelling of motor oil, marked with a single line of Cyrillic text. One week later, hundreds of miles away, a fisherman on a cold northern shore pulls a ruined coat from the sea. Tucked inside: the same crane.
This is how the story begin...
