Chapter 23 · Mara's Dirty Debt

Mara's sister doesn't blink.

The body hangs from a rusted chain in the middle of the abandoned station, toes three inches off the concrete. Her face is perfect. Too perfect. The same sharp jaw Mara has, same scar above the left eyebrow from when they were kids and Mara threw a bottle during a fight about stolen cigarettes.

But the eyes are wrong.

They're open. Staring straight at Mara. And they're moving.

"Lena," Mara whispers.

I step in front of her. My hand's already on the scalpel I grabbed from the med kit. Silas is slumped against the wall behind us, breathing like every inhale costs him. His eyes are still black. The crown mark on my chest is pulsing so hard it feels like a second heartbeat.

"Don't," I say to Mara. "That's not her."

"I know." Mara's voice cracks. "I buried her six years ago."

The body's mouth opens. No sound comes out at first. Just this wet clicking noise, like someone's trying to talk through a mouthful of water. Then words start forming.

"You sold the route."

Mara goes white.

"You sold the route," the thing wearing Lena's face says again. "September third.