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"Put the knife down, Nia." Mara stopped with one hand still on the door. "You know me."
The blade pressed harder under her jaw.
"I know your face," Nia said. "That isn't the same thing."
Mara kept her eyes on the knife. It was a narrow market blade, silver along the edge and black at the handle. Nia had once used it to cut clockwire from a man's throat. She'd apologized afterward. The man had been trying to sell children twelve stolen years.
Nia didn't apologize now.
Behind Mara, Calder shut the door.
The lock clicked.
Nia's gaze snapped to him. "And you brought the executioner into my shop?"
"He followed me," Mara said.
"You begged me to let him in," Calder said.
"I did not beg."
"You said, 'If you leave me out there, he'll kill me.'"
"That was strategy."
"It sounded like begging."
Nia shoved the knife closer. "Both of you, shut up. Mara Venn is dead."
The words landed wrong. Not because they were new. Mara had heard them from Calder two nights ago, when he had found her stealing eleven seconds from the bullet meant for him. She'd heard them from three bounty hunters before that.
But Nia saying it made the room tilt.
Mara swallowed carefully. The blade kissed skin.
"I'm standing right here," she said.
"People stand here all the time." Nia's grip tightened. "The market gets ghosts. Copies. Borrowed faces. Which one are you?"
Calder moved behind Mara. Close enough that his chest brushed her shoulder when he breathed. One hand settled beside her hip, not touching, blocking the only clear path to the stairs.
He wasn't protecting her.
He was making sure she couldn't bolt.
"Nia," he said, voice low, "if she were a copy, the contract would have rejected her at the door."
"Maybe it hasn't finished chewing."
"Then cut her and find out."
Mara twisted her head just enough to glare at him. "Helpful."
His eyes dropped to the thin line of blood beneath her jaw. His fingers flexed once against the wall.
"You want her trust?" he murmured. "Give her proof."
"I know how trust works."
"Do you?"
Nia shoved Mara backward.
Mara hit Calder's chest. His arm caught around her waist before she could lose balance. Heat spread through the back of her coat where his palm held her steady. His mouth was near her ear.
"Easy," he said.
"Take your hand off me."
"When you stop trying to fall on my knife."
"It's her knife."
"You were still falling."
Nia stepped around them, keeping the blade trained on Mara. "What happened to your wrist?"
Mara's sleeve covered the mark, but the scar beneath it had been pulsing since the blackout. Once every few seconds. Like a second heartbeat.
"Burned it," Mara said.
"On what?"
"A bullet."
Nia's expression changed. Just a twitch around her left eye. Small. Familiar.
Mara saw it and grabbed the opening.
"You hate silver burns," she said. "You say they smell like pennies and bad decisions. You keep sugar cubes under the counter because you get dizzy when you work too long. You sleep with a hammer beside your bed, but you call it a security system because you think that sounds less pathetic."
Nia didn't lower the knife.
"Anyone could know that."
"You have a scar across your thumb."
"Lots of people have scars."
"You got it at the river market when you were fifteen. You tried to steal a minute from a dying horse because you thought it could tell you where its owner went. It kicked you into a fish crate. You cried for exactly six seconds, then told everyone the crate attacked first."
Nia's mouth parted.
Mara pushed harder. "You still have the blue button from that coat in your left pocket. You rub it when you're lying."
Nia's hand jerked.
The button clicked against the knife handle.
Calder's arm tightened around Mara's waist. His thumb pressed once through the fabric, warning her not to move.
"You feel that?" he asked quietly.
"Your hand? Yes. Get it off."
"No. The room."
Mara listened.
The shop had gone silent. Not normal silent. The clocks on the walls had stopped at different times, their hands frozen in a messy circle. A brass timer above Nia's workbench ticked backward.
Nia stared at it.
"That wasn't doing that before," she said.
"Nothing was doing anything before," Mara snapped. "You pulled a knife on me. Remember?"
"I remember pulling a knife on a stranger."
"I'm not a stranger."
"Then prove it."
Mara's pulse hit the blade.
"Name the first thing I stole."
Nia's eyes narrowed. "You stole coins from your landlord."
"Wrong."
"A watch."
"Wrong."
"A kiss from a boy behind the old courthouse."
"I was twelve, and he was sixteen. I stole his lunch money, not a kiss."
"You just said you weren't a stranger."
"I said you were wrong."
For half a second, Nia looked almost amused.
Then the expression vanished.
"First thing," she repeated.
Mara felt Calder's breath touch the side of her neck. He was listening too. Probably deciding how many fingers he'd break if Nia cut her.
"Eleven seconds," Mara said. "From a man who fell off the east bridge."
Nia went still.
"You told me not to do it," Mara continued. "You said seconds belonged to the dying, not the thieves. I took them anyway. He lived long enough to tell the watch who pushed him. Then he cursed me for saving him."
The knife dipped.
Mara saw it and moved.
She caught Nia's wrist and slammed it against the nearest shelf. The blade clattered onto the floor. Nia swore and drove her shoulder into Mara's ribs. Calder grabbed Nia by the back of her coat and yanked her away.
"Let go of me, Rook!"
"Stop reaching for the knife."
"She attacked me!"
"You held steel to her throat."
"She broke into my shop with a killer!"
Mara rubbed her jaw. A warm line of blood slid beneath her fingers.
"Nice to see you too," she said.
Nia lunged for the blade again.
Calder stepped between them.
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. The room seemed to make space for him.
"Try it," he said. "You'll spend the next reset without the use of that arm."
Nia's face hardened. "You threaten everyone like that?"
"Only people who make me repeat myself."
Mara stepped around him. "Enough. Nia, look at me."
Nia did.
Mara lifted her sleeve.
The scar on her wrist glowed under the skin, a thin red line twisting around the old mark. Calder's eyes sharpened. His own wrist burned in answer; Mara saw the red pulse beneath his cuff.
Nia whispered, "That isn't a normal bind."
"It's not a bind," Mara said. "It happened when I stole time from his bullet."
"You stole time from a bullet?"
"Eleven seconds."
"That's impossible."
"Tell that to him."
Calder's gaze stayed on Mara's wrist. "She saved my life."
"No," Nia said. "She moved the death."
Mara turned on her. "What does that mean?"
Nia glanced at Calder, then toward the covered window.
"It means the clock didn't lose eleven seconds," she said. "It put them somewhere else."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
"You always know. That's your whole annoying thing."
"My annoying thing is keeping you alive when you do stupid work for people who'd sell your bones by the pound."
"And now you don't know me?"
Nia flinched.
The answer came too slowly.
Mara took one step closer. "Say it."
"Say what?"
"The thing you're trying not to say."
Nia picked up the knife but held it pointed at the floor. "I saw you die."
Calder's head turned. "When?"
"During the blackout."
Mara's stomach tightened. "You were with me."
"No, I wasn't."
"You were in the alley. You grabbed my hand."
Nia's eyes went blank for a beat. "I didn't."
"You did."
"I was here."
"You said, 'Don't forget me.'"
Nia's face drained of color.
Calder's hand found Mara's again. His fingers closed around hers before she could pull away. His palm was hot. Solid. His thumb brushed her knuckles once, and the contact hit harder than it should have.
"Tell me exactly what happened," he said.
Nia looked at him. "The lights went out. The clocks stopped. Then I heard Mara screaming."
Mara's grip tightened around Calder's hand. "I wasn't screaming."
"I know. That's why I went to look."
"And?"
"You were on the floor. There was blood on your shirt. A man stood over you."
Calder's jaw locked. "What man?"
"I couldn't see his face. He wore a city executioner's coat."
Mara looked at Calder.
He didn't look back.
Nia continued, "He put a hand on your chest. Mara stopped moving. Then the lights came on. You were gone."
"I'm right here," Mara said.
"That was my problem. I found you again ten minutes later, but you said you had never met me. You called me a shopkeeper."
Mara's fingers went cold inside Calder's hand.
"You erased me," Nia said. "Then you came back and expected me to smile."
"I didn't erase you."
"How do you know?"
Mara opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
A sharp click sounded under the workbench.
Nia froze. "Don't move."
Calder pulled Mara behind him.
"What is it?" Mara whispered.
"The ledger."
The black book slid across the floor by itself. Its metal corners scraped the boards. It stopped at Mara's boots.
She stared down at it.
"That thing was locked," Nia said.
"You keep saying things are locked," Mara said. "They keep opening."
"Don't touch it."
Mara bent anyway.
Calder caught her wrist. The instant his skin met hers, the scar on her arm flared hot. A red thread flashed between their hands and vanished.
His eyes dropped to the mark.
"Mara."
"Let go."
"No."
"Calder."
"You don't know what it wants."
"Neither do you."
"I know it wants blood."
The ledger's cover split.
A wet red line crawled across the black leather, thin as ink at first. Then it dripped onto the floor.
Nia backed away. "That's not ink."
"I can see that," Mara said.
Pages flipped inside the book. Fast. Too fast. Names blurred past in gray and crimson. Calder pulled Mara farther back, but the ledger followed, scraping over the boards like something with a broken leg.
"Mara," he said, "stay behind me."
"You keep putting yourself between me and everything sharp."
"Because you keep walking toward it."
"Maybe sharp things tell the truth."
"Maybe they kill you."
His voice cracked on the last word.
Mara looked at him.
For one second, the executioner mask slipped. She saw the man beneath it—tired, furious, and scared enough to make bad choices.
She wanted to touch his face.
Instead, she shoved his hand away.
"Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like I'm already dead."
Calder stepped closer. His coat brushed hers. "Then stop acting like you have nothing left to lose."
"I have plenty left."
"Your brother?"
The room went still.
Nia looked between them. "You never told him?"
Mara's heart kicked. "Told him what?"
Calder's expression shut down. "Nia."
"No." Mara moved toward him. "What did you find?"
"Nothing useful."
"You said his name."
"I said you had a brother."
"You said it like you knew where he was."
Calder caught her shoulders. His hands were warm through her coat, holding her in place without squeezing. Their faces were inches apart. She could feel his breath, uneven now.
"I know the contract took ten years from him," he said. "I don't know where the rest went."
Mara's throat tightened. "You knew?"
"I suspected."
"You suspected my brother was being used as a time battery and kept it to yourself?"
"I was trying to confirm it."
"By dragging me through half the city?"
"By keeping you alive."
"You don't get to call that kindness."
"I didn't."
"Then what the hell do you call it?"
"A debt."
The word struck harder than his grip.
Behind them, the ledger snapped open.
A new line appeared on the first page.
Mara turned.
The blood writing spread in jagged letters.
ELIAN VENN.
Her brother's name.
Below it, a number began to count down.
10:00:00.
Mara stopped breathing.
"No," she said.
The numbers changed.
09:59:59.
Nia whispered, "That's a lifespan count."
"Whose?" Calder asked.
Mara stepped toward the book. "My brother's."
"You don't know that," Calder said.
"It has his name."
"Names can be copied."
"You want to test that theory?"
She reached for the page.
Calder grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back against him. Her spine hit his chest. His arm locked across her middle. The ledger's red glow washed over both of them.
"Don't touch it," he said against her ear.
"Get off me."
"Not while it's counting."
"You think I care about a cut?"
"I think you'll trade your life without asking what the price is."
"It's my brother."
"And you're the only person who can still remember him."
Mara went rigid.
Nia's knife slipped from her fingers and hit the floor.
"What did you say?" Mara asked.
Calder didn't answer.
The countdown reached 09:58:41.
The ledger wrote another word beneath Elian's name.
CLAIMED.
Mara twisted in Calder's hold. "You knew."
"I knew the resets were taking more than memories."
"You knew my brother was already—"
The shop lights flickered.
Nia grabbed the ledger and dragged it toward the workbench. "Don't let it finish the line!"
"What line?" Mara demanded.
Nia yanked a brass hook from a drawer and jammed it between the pages. The book snapped shut on the metal. Blood ran over her fingers.
She screamed.
Mara tore free of Calder and rushed forward. "Nia!"
Calder caught her again, this time by the wrist.
The scar on Mara's arm pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Then the ledger began to bleed through its closed cover.
A final line pushed itself across the black leather, letter by letter.
ELIAN VENN — 09:57:12 — IF MARA REMEMBERS, HE—
Nia stared at it.
Mara stared at Calder.
He was already reaching for the page when the first clock on the wall struck thirteen—