Chapter 18 · The city record requires a living identity to carry the accusation

He pressed his palm over my mark. His hand covered mine completely.

The warmth should've steadied me. Instead, every nerve in my body locked onto him—the rough edge of his thumb, the hard line of his chest, the fast beat beneath his collar.

"The city record requires a living identity to carry the accusation," he said. "Marlow put mine on the list."

"So you bound yourself to my record?"

"I bound the order to me before it could reach you."

"And now it reached me anyway."

"Because you came into my core."

"Because you built a wall around the truth."

His eyes held mine. "Because the truth gets people killed."

"My mother died knowing it."

The words cracked through him.

Not enough to make him soft. Adrian Rook didn't do soft. But his mouth tightened, and his grip shifted from restraint to support.

"Your mother didn't die because of me."

"You stole her witness memory."

"I took it before Marlow could destroy it."

My pulse kicked. "You took it."

"I hid it. There's a difference."

"Then why does she sound afraid of you?"

"Because she knew what I was willing to do to protect it."

The opening behind him widened.