Chapter 9 · Traceless - Chapter 9: Her Mother's Number

The chip's still warm in my palm when Cole stops coughing.

I'm not supposed to be this close. The ten-foot rule's a joke now—I can feel his pulse through his wrist, too fast, like his body's trying to shake off what we just shoved into it. The techs are packing up their kit. Vera's watching us from the doorway, arms crossed, face blank.

Cole's the one who breaks the silence. "NH-07-PG." His voice comes out rough. "Null Handler. Parental Guardian."

I close my fingers around the chip. It's small enough to swallow. "My mother planted this in me."

"Yeah." He sits up slow, like his ribs might crack if he moves wrong. "And she's been tracking you for eighteen years."

The room tilts. I don't let go of his wrist. "She knew where I was."

"Every day." Cole wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. There's still blood on his teeth. "Every hour. She could've walked into your shop anytime she wanted."

Vera shifts her weight. "We need to move. The extraction triggered an alert—"

"Where is she?" I cut her off. My voice sounds too loud in the concrete space. "You pulled this thing out of him.