Chapter 19 · The Life They Borrowed

"Stop."

Cade's hand closed around my wrist before I could touch the panel.

"What?"

"Look at the dust."

I looked. The workbench hadn't been touched in months, maybe longer. Except for one spot. Clean arc, right where my fingers were about to land.

"Someone's been here," I said.

"Recently."

"That's not possible. The biometric lock—"

"Uses your palm print and a fake name you picked when you were nineteen." Cade let go of my wrist but didn't step back. "You think you're the only one who knows that?"

I pulled my hand back. "You saying I led them here?"

"I'm saying you're not the first person to run to this room."

The air down here tasted like metal and old grease. My shop. My fallback. The place I told myself no one else could find.

"Then we leave," I said.

"And go where?"

"Anywhere that isn't a trap."

"Mara." His voice dropped. "We're out of anywhere."

I turned on him. "You don't get to do that."

"Do what?"

"Act like you're the only one keeping score. I've died more times than you've lied to me, and that's saying something."

He didn't flinch. "I never lied about the cost."

"No.