Chapter 27 · Whoever's Holding It Now

"—can you hear—" The voice snapped off mid-word, swallowed by a hard click that echoed off the vault's steel walls.

I was still half under Vale, my back cold against the table, his hand locked around my wrist like he thought I'd bolt for the door. I wasn't going anywhere. My legs wouldn't let me.

"That wasn't Rhys," I said. My voice came out rough, scraped raw. "That was a woman."

"I know." Vale's jaw was tight, his eyes on the little service radio bolted to the wall by the door — Rhys's old dispatch line, the one that was supposed to be dead six winters ago. The red light on it was blinking now. Steady. Patient. Like it was waiting for us to say something back.

I pushed up on my elbows. The mark at my throat pulled tight, still raw, still his. Vale's gaze dropped there for half a second — just long enough that I felt it like a hand — before he made himself look away.

"Council doesn't run comms through this frequency," he said. "This is Riverside internal. Rhys's own line.