Chapter 29 · Ghost in the Comms

"Get your hands off the console, Lyra!"

Cain’s voice barked right in my ear. Before I could blink, his hand slammed down on my wrist, pinning it hard against the metal plating of the comms array.

I jerked back, heart hammering. "It was his voice, Cain! That was my brother!"

"It was a recording. A deep-fake. Or Victor playing with your head to see how fast you'd crack," he snapped.

He didn't let go. His grip was tight—not enough to bruise, but enough to remind me exactly who owned this cramped, shaking pod.

"He sounded terrified," I shot back, wrenching my arm. "He said not to trust—"

"And you're already doing it." Cain stepped closer.

He was so close I could smell ozone and cold metal clinging to his gear. His shadow swallowed me against the flickering monitors. "You're letting a glitchy audio file rewrite three weeks of work. Are you really that stupid?"

"I'm not stupid!" I shoved his chest.

He didn't budge. It was like pushing against a bulkhead. "I'm desperate! There's a difference!"

Cain’s eyes narrowed. Something dark and frustrated flashed across his face.