Chapter 10 · The First New Debt

"We're not staying here."

Iris shoved past me into the hallway. The air tasted like rot and copper. The walls were breathing—slow, wet inhales that made the floorboards buckle.

"You got a better idea?" I kept my hand on the doorframe. The wood felt warm. Alive.

"Anywhere but inside a house that just watched you die." She stopped at the top of the stairs. Her fingers were shaking. "The dead gave you an address. That means someone sent them."

"Yeah, and they knew my name." The headache was getting worse. Every time I blinked, I saw flashes—other people's memories, other people's fear. A woman in a red coat. A man holding a gun. A kid crying in a basement. None of it mine.

"Cade."

I looked up. Iris was staring at me.

"You hearing things again?"

"Seeing them." I pressed my palm against my temple. "And yeah, hearing them. It's louder now."

She took a step closer. "What are you hearing?"

"Everything." The word came out rough. "Every person in a three-block radius. Every scared thought, every lie they're telling themselves to get through the day."

Her jaw tightened.