Chapter 25 · The Creditor Is Me

"Give me the knife."

Mara's voice cuts through the buzz in my skull. My hand's already on the hilt—some rusted combat blade jammed into the server rack like someone gave up mid-fight. The node's still humming behind me, that low mechanical purr that makes my teeth ache.

"Jace." She's closer now. "Step back."

"Can't." My fingers close around the grip. Cold metal. Real. "They're in here."

"What's in there?"

"My memories." I pull. The blade doesn't move. "The ones they took when they put me down."

She grabs my wrist. Her hand's warm, callused. "You pull that, the whole rack goes. You go with it."

"Then I go."

"Like hell." She twists my arm back. Not hard. Just enough. "I didn't drag you through four safe houses so you could fry yourself on a dead man's server."

I turn my head. She's close enough I can see the split in her lip from yesterday, the faint edge of gunpowder still on her jacket. Her eyes are locked on mine, and there's something in them I can't name. Not fear. Not pity.

"Let go," I say.

"No."

The ledger flares in my vision. New line.