Chapter 13 · Mom's Voice, Wrong Mouth

The hologram didn't flicker. Didn't glitch. Just hung there in the air above the arena floor, clear as glass, and I couldn't breathe.

Mom.

Same dark hair. Same scar through her left eyebrow. Same way she held her shoulders back like she was always ready to take a hit. She was standing in some kind of lab—concrete walls, pipes running overhead, steel tables bolted to the floor. Behind her, shapes moved in the shadows. Big ones.

"Mara," she said. Her voice came through the arena speakers, calm and flat. "Stop looking for me."

I was on my knees. Blood all over my hands—Sloane's blood, fake blood, I didn't even know anymore. Nox was coiled around my wrist, cold and tight, and the crowd noise had gone quiet. Not silent. Just muffled, like I was underwater.

"Mom?" My voice cracked. I sounded like a kid.

She didn't smile. Didn't flinch. Just stared straight through the camera, straight at me, and her eyes were wrong. Too flat. "You need to walk away. Take Lena. Go."

"Where are you?" I tried to stand. My legs didn't work. "What the hell is—"

"Mara." Sloane's hand landed on my shoulder, hard.