Chapter 7 · A Borrowed Heartbeat

The steel door clicked open.

Seren tightened her grip on the black box and looked at Ian. "You have ten seconds to tell me what you did to my mother."

Ian stood beside the storage shelves, one hand pressed to his ribs. Blood had soaked through his shirt. His face was pale, but his eyes stayed on the box.

"That's not what the box is for."

"Funny. Nora said it was."

"Nora says a lot of things when armed people are trying to cut us open."

"Renny."

The nickname came from Nora, soft and sharp at the same time.

Seren's hand twitched. A flash hit her.

A cheap diner. Grease on a paper basket. Nora laughing with ketchup on her thumb. Seren, younger and stupid enough to think bruises counted as a job benefit, stealing fries off her plate.

Then the memory broke.

The steel door moved another inch.

Somewhere outside, boots hit the concrete floor.

Nora raised her pistol. "Pick one problem, Renny. The box or the soldiers."

"The box." Ian's voice came out too fast.

Seren turned on him. "You don't get to pick for me."

"No, I don't." He looked at the box again.