Chapter 14 · Archive Nine

The door sealed behind us with a hiss that made my teeth ache.

Cole didn't move. Just stood there staring at the walls.

I looked up.

Every surface. Every single one. Shelves floor to ceiling, packed with those same gray file boxes from upstairs. But these had labels. Dates. Names I didn't recognize and a few I did.

"Chen, Mallory." My mom's name, printed on a box at eye level. Right there.

"Don't touch anything yet." Cole's voice came out wrong. Tight.

I turned. He was still by the door, one hand pressed against the frame. His fingers were shaking.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Silver." He nodded at the shelves. At the brackets holding them up. "The whole frame. They built it into the infrastructure."

I looked closer. The metal had that dull shine. Not steel. Not aluminum.

"How much silver?"

"Enough." He pulled his hand back. The skin where he'd touched the doorframe was red. Blistering. "This isn't storage. It's a cage."

The air tasted wrong. Metallic. I could feel it now, that prickle along my arms, the back of my neck. Not painful yet. But close.

"We need to grab the file and go."

"Yeah." He didn't move.