Chapter 15 · The Man Walking the Ceiling

"Ada."

I froze. That voice came from above me.

I looked up. Victor Kane was walking across the ceiling like it was a floor, boots planted on concrete, arms loose at his sides. His jacket hung upward, defying every law I thought still applied here. Blood dripped up from a cut on his temple, floating toward the ground I stood on.

"Don't move," he said.

"Which one are you?" My gun was already up, barrel tracking him as he moved. My heart slammed against my ribs. The cell was small, maybe ten by ten, all concrete and rust. The lift had dumped us here thirty seconds ago and Lane was still screaming in the corner, clawing at his own face.

"The real one," Victor said. He took a step. His boot made a solid sound against the ceiling. "The one who told you about the counter two loops ago."

"Prove it."

He stopped. His eyes locked on mine. Upside down, they still had that same cold focus. "You want proof? Fine. But lower the gun first."

"Not a chance." My finger tightened on the trigger. "The prison can pull anything out of my head. Memories. Fears.