Chapter 24 · The Second Death Tonight

The third knock never finished echoing.

It trembled through the forbidden archive, a dull pressure in the teeth, in the bones behind Eve Calder’s eyes. The sealed door shuddered beneath its iron bands. Dust spilled from the ceiling in thin gray curtains. Somewhere beyond the black wood, something dragged a fingernail down the other side.

Kieran lay on one knee beside the broken Echo, blood soaking through his shirt beneath the ribs. Silver threads still clung to his coat like veins torn from a living thing. When Eve had turned the hourglass, the world had snapped backward seven seconds, and the silver had retracted from his throat before it could open him completely.

She remembered the motion.

She remembered his hand finding hers.

She remembered the warmth of his skin.

But she did not remember why she had trusted him enough to spend the hourglass.

That absence sat between them now, colder than the archive floor.

Kieran lifted his head. His face had gone pale beneath the blood and dust, but his eyes were clear. Too clear.