He laughed once. It came out rough and breathless. "You really want me to say it for you?"
"Yes!"
"Fine." He shoved away from the vault. "'If one of us falls, the other comes back.'"
The words slammed through the chamber.
The witness vault unlocked with a deep metallic clunk.
Adrian's knees buckled.
I caught him before he hit the floor. His weight drove me down beside the vault door. He landed partly on top of me, one hand planted beside my head.
His breath hit my throat.
"That wasn't the whole line," I whispered.
"No."
"What did I add?"
His eyes held mine. "You said, 'Even if I have to drag you through hell.'"
"I would never say that."
"You said it while threatening to break my fingers."
"You deserved it."
"Probably."
The mark on his cheek burned brighter.
He winced and started to push away. I grabbed his shirt.
"Don't."
"Mara, let go."
"You said the contract brought us back. So why are you still dying?"
"Because the loop isn't killing me."
His eyes cut toward the vault.
"It's using me to keep the door shut."
The sealed door shook behind him. Something struck the other side.
Once.
Then again.
I tightened my grip. "What's in there?"
"Your mother's witness shard."
"You said it was in your pocket."
"It was. Until the grid found us."
"You moved it?"
"I hid it."
"From me?"
"From Marlow."
The chamber buckled.
A blast of black light threw Adrian sideways. I caught his wrist, and pain ripped through my shoulder as his body dragged me across the glass floor.
"Adrian!"
"Don't touch the mark!"
"I'm not touching the mark."
"You are now."
His sleeve had split. The judgment mark ran down his forearm in sharp black lines, crawling toward my fingers.
I tried to pull away.
The mark caught my skin.
Heat punched through my hand and shot up my arm.
The loop stopped.
Not slowed. Stopped.
Every dead version of Adrian froze around us. Blood hung in the air. Black light locked into solid strands. Even the vault went still.
Adrian stared at our joined hands.
"That's new."
"Your mark is on me."
"I warned you."
"You didn't warn me about this."
"I warned you not to touch it."
"That's not the same thing!"
He pulled hard.
The mark tightened between us and dragged our bodies together. My knees struck his. His free hand landed on my hip, catching me before I fell.
His palm burned through my clothes.
Neither of us moved.
"Take your hand off me," I said.
"If I do, we both go back to the first death."
"Then keep it there."
His fingers flexed once.
The tiny movement sent heat up my side.
"You hate me," he murmured.
"I do."
"Say it like you mean it."
"I hate you."
"Again."
"I hate you."
His mouth came close to mine. "You don't sound convinced."
"You're bleeding into the floor. I'm not required to sound convincing."
"You are if you want the loop to break."
"What are you talking about?"
"The contract needs a verbal anchor. The line got us here. It won't open the vault."
"What will?"
His eyes dropped to my mouth again.
I understood a second before he said it.
"No."
"You know the rules."
"The contract says nothing about kissing."
"It says shared access requires mutual consent."
"I consent to opening the vault. I don't consent to you turning this into—"
The dead versions around us twitched.
Adrian's grip tightened on my hip. "We have maybe ten seconds."
"You always did enjoy cornering people with legal wording."
"You wrote the wording."
"Shut up."
"Mara—"
I kissed him.
His mouth was warm despite the blood at his lip. For one second, he stayed perfectly still, like he didn't trust the moment enough to touch it.
Then he pulled me hard against him.
The kiss turned fierce. His breath broke against mine. His thumb pressed into my hip, right where he'd stopped short before. The contact sent a sharp jolt through the mark binding our hands.
The vault door opened.
I tore my mouth away first.
Adrian's forehead rested against mine. His breath came rough against my lips.
"You kissed me," he said.
"I saved you."
"With your mouth."
"Don't make me regret it."
"I thought you already did."
The vault flashed.
A small silver shard rose from the darkness and spun between us. Thin red lines moved through its center, forming the shape of a face.
My mother's face.
My knees nearly gave out.
Adrian caught me around the waist. "Don't touch the shard."
"I need to hear it."
"You need to stay connected to me."
"You don't get to order me around."
"Mara, if you break contact, the record burns."
The shard brightened. My mother's voice filled the chamber, cracked with fear and static.
"If this reaches Mara, the case has already been rewritten."
My fingers dug into Adrian's coat.
"Mom, keep talking."
The recording continued.
"Adrian Rook didn't steal the witness case. He was buying us time."
Adrian went rigid beneath my hand.
I turned toward him. "Buying who time?"
He didn't answer.
The shard flickered. My mother's image turned toward someone outside the memory frame.
"You promised the tribunal would wait," she said. "You promised no one would touch the child."
My breath caught.
"What child?"
Adrian's hand closed around mine. "Mara, listen to the rest."
"You knew about this?"
"Not all of it."
"How much?"
"Enough to keep the shard away from Marlow."
The chamber doors slammed open behind us.
A voice rolled through the memory grid.
"Enough to make him guilty."
Chief Justice Marlow stood in the doorway, dressed in black tribunal robes. His face looked younger than it had in court. Almost calm.
Adrian shoved me behind him. "You're not real."
Marlow smiled without warmth. "Neither is the marriage."
The mark on Adrian's arm flared.
The shard screamed.
My mother's recording broke apart, then snapped back together around one final image: a black oath-mark stamped across the corner of her memory.
Marlow's mark.
Not a copy. Not a later seal.
It had been there from the start.
My mother had seen him. She'd spoken to him. He'd been inside her memory before Adrian ever touched the case.
Marlow lifted one hand toward the shard.
Adrian's body locked in front of mine.
"Mara," he said, his voice tight, "whatever you do, don't let him—"
The mark on his throat opened like a second mouth, and my mother's voice whispered, "Ask him why Chief Justice Marlow's oath-mark is on my memory if he—"