Chapter 4 · The Dead File

"Take the gun off me, Lucas."

The pistol stayed under my chin.

Its muzzle pressed into the cut on my throat. One twitch, and the courtroom floor would have a second body before the cleaners even showed up.

"You used my sister's code," Lucas said. "Now you're refusing to tell me where you got it."

"I refused because you had a gun in my face. Call me difficult."

His jaw locked. The barrel dug harder into my skin.

"You were sentenced as a terrorist an hour ago." His voice stayed low. Too calm. "I stopped the execution because you claimed that chip carried proof from Mara Vale. If you're lying, I'll finish what the tower started."

"Then shoot me."

The words scraped my throat, but I made sure he heard every one.

His eyes dropped to my wrist.

The protection contract glowed beneath my skin. A thin red line counted down from twenty-three hours and forty-one minutes. His blood and mine had sealed it.

If he abandoned me, the contract would kill me.

He hated that part. I saw it in the way his thumb dragged over the grip.

"You think the contract makes you untouchable?" he asked.

"No. I think it makes you responsible. There's a difference."

"The tower owns the contract."

"You signed it with me."

"Under pressure."

"So did I. Mine came with a blade at my wrist. Yours came with a choice." I lifted my chin against the gun. "You picked the evidence. Don't act like you got dragged into this."

His nostrils flared.

He stood so close I felt his breath brush my cheek. Warm. Controlled. Like he was forcing every ugly thought back behind his teeth.

I should've been afraid of the gun.

I was more afraid of how steady his hand felt.

Lucas leaned closer. "Tell me where the chip came from."

"No."

"Evelyn."

"That's not my name."

That stopped him.

Only for half a second. Half a second was enough.

I shoved my free hand into the torn lining of my coat and pulled out the last thing I'd taken from the execution platform—a cracked image wafer.

I slapped it against his chest.

His eyes dropped to it.

A woman appeared on the wafer's tiny screen. Dark hair. Sharp cheekbones. A cut over her left eyebrow. She stared into the recording lens like she wanted to break it with her bare hands.

Mara Vale.

Lucas went still.

"Where did you get that?"

"You know her."

"Answer me."

"Move the gun first."

His eyes snapped back to mine. "You're in no position to bargain."

"You need me alive. The contract says so. You need the chip. And if you pull that trigger, you lose the only person who can tell you what Mara hid."

"You don't know what she hid."

"I know she called you Little Wolf when she wanted you to stop acting like your father. I know she tapped twice before saying anything she didn't want recorded." I watched his face tighten. "I know she hated black coffee but drank it during night shifts because you kept stealing the sugar."

The gun dipped.

Barely.

I kept going.

"She said the Vale family would bury this city before they let the dead speak. Then she gave me the chip."

Lucas grabbed my coat and slammed me against the evidence-room door.

Pain shot through my shoulder. His body blocked the cameras above us. His hand closed around my wrist, right over the glowing contract.

"You were with her," he said.

"I was near her."

"That's not what I asked."

"It's the answer you're getting."

His fingers tightened.

The red line under my skin pulsed hot against his palm. The contract reacted to both of us. His pupils narrowed when he felt it.

"If you die," he said, "I lose the chip. If I release you, you die."

"Now you're learning."

"You built this trap around me."

"You signed it."

"You knew what it would do."

"I knew you wouldn't protect me for free."

For one sharp second, neither of us moved.

His chest brushed mine every time he breathed. The edge of his badge dug into my ribs. His gun was still trapped between us, but his face had come close enough for me to see the tiny scar beside his mouth.

His eyes dropped to my lips.

The pause lasted one breath too long.

Then the emergency lights died.

The room vanished.

A siren barked somewhere above us. Three short bursts. Then three more.

Not the execution alarm.

Worse.

Lucas released my wrist and turned toward the hall.

"Stay behind me."

"You don't get to order me around."

"The command just killed power to this floor."

"Then they're coming for the chip."

"They're coming for you."

A heavy lock slammed shut inside the walls.

I reached for the door, but Lucas caught my hand first. His palm was hot and rough. He avoided the cut on my wrist with a care that didn't match the gun in his other hand.

"Don't pull away," he said. "The contract tracks distance."

"You could've mentioned that before dragging me through half the tower."

"I didn't know the full terms."

"Neither did I."

"You still signed."

"And you still keep touching me."

His gaze dropped to our joined hands.

For the first time, Lucas looked caught.

The lock on the evidence-room door flashed red. Footsteps pounded on the other side.

Someone shouted, "Open the door! Tower security!"

Lucas pulled me toward a row of sealed cabinets.

"The chip has a memory trace," he said.

"You can read it?"

"Not yet."

"Then why are we here?"

"Because command is blocking every live terminal. The old evidence archive isn't connected to the tower network."

"And you know that because?"

He stopped beside the last cabinet and pressed his hand to a dead panel.

"Because I built the lockdown system."

I stared at the side of his face. "You built this floor?"

"I built the system that buried it."

"That's not the same thing."

"It is when you're the one standing under it."

The footsteps outside grew louder.

Someone slammed into the door.

Lucas ignored them. He dragged my hand toward the scanner.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving the archive two signatures."

"Why does it need mine?"

"It shouldn't."

The blue strip turned red when my fingers touched the panel.

Lucas swore under his breath.

"What?"

"The archive recognized you."

"It doesn't know me."

"Apparently, it does."

The cabinet door unlocked with a deep mechanical clunk.

Inside sat a single black terminal, its screen dead and filmed with dust. Lucas shoved the image wafer into the port.

The screen flashed once.

Then a line of white text appeared.

ACCESSING DEAD FILE.

The door behind us shook under another hard impact.

"Lucas," I whispered, "what's in there?"

His face tightened. Not angry now.

Afraid.

The terminal beeped.

A second line appeared beneath the first.

SUBJECT NAME: EVELYN—

Lucas grabbed my arm.

"Don't look."

I tore free and leaned toward the screen.

"Why does the dead file have my name—"