Chapter 8 · The Rope That Wasn't Frayed

The knife hit my collarbone before my back hit the wall.

"Don't move." Sona's breath was hot on my face. "Don't even breathe funny."

"Wasn't planning to."

I kept my hands open, palms out. The way you do when someone's already decided you're guilty and just needs an excuse.

"The ninth bell rope," she said. "Somebody cut three-quarters through it. Left the last strands to hold. It would've gone tonight, mid-ring, with Ethlin's sister standing under the counterweight."

"And you think that's me."

"I think you knew it was going to happen before I told you." She pressed the flat of the blade harder. Not the edge. Which meant she was still deciding. "I watched your face just now. You didn't flinch."

Fair. I hadn't flinched because in six other loops that exact rope had dropped that exact weight on that exact girl. I'd stopped hearing the crack of it in my sleep about three loops ago.

Didn't mean I did it.

Meant I'd already lived it enough times to go numb.

"I didn't cut your rope, Sona."

"Everyone who's been near that tower in the last two days is a suspect." Her jaw worked. "You've been near that tower."