Chapter 9 · The Voice in the Dead File

"Don't move."

Jude's voice came through sharp, like he was standing right behind my ear. Except he wasn't. I couldn't see him. Couldn't see anything but the gray ceiling panel two feet above my face and the faint red blink of a status light somewhere past my peripheral.

I tried to lift my hand. Nothing happened.

"Lyra, I mean it. You try to sit up right now, you'll rip the neural bridge and flatline before anyone gets to you."

My throat burned. I forced the words out anyway. "Where—"

"Medical detention. Sub-level nine. You've been under for eight months."

Eight months.

I should've felt something. Panic, rage, disbelief. Instead there was just the taste of metal on my tongue and the slow, awful certainty that he wasn't lying.

"The loop," I said.

"Broke when you locked yourself in as operator. You shut it down clean. No residual fragments, no secondary triggers. Drake's people had to pull you out manually."

"Mara—"

"Alive. She got out. So did I." His voice dipped lower, closer, like he'd leaned in even though I still couldn't see him. "You made sure of that."

I wanted to ask him how.