Detective Jack Harris woke up to the ring of his landline. Confused and groggy, he reached for the phone. "Harris, we have a situation. A murder at Elm Street Park. Get there now," his captain's voice crackled.

He arrived at the crime scene, routine unfolding before him—the yellow tape, flashlights scouring the darkness, and officers combing for clues. The victim was a young woman, Anna, who was killed precisely at midnight. Despite hours of investigation, the leads were flimsy, and they left with more questions than answers.

That night, he went to bed troubled, only to be woken up again by the same phone call. At first, he thought it was a prank, but arriving at Elm Street Park, he was stunned to find the exact same scene. The same victim, the same lack of clues. It was as if the previous day had never happened.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Jack was living the same day, trapped in a loop that reset every midnight. His reality became a...