Chapter 8 · The Last Key

"Hand it over."

Dorian's palm stays out. Waiting. Like he's got all the time in the world.

The shard burns in my fist. Not painful. Just hot, alive, pulsing against my skin like a second heartbeat. Behind me Kieran's breathing too hard, leaning on the wall because standing's probably killing him right now.

And in front of me, sitting in that chair with her hands loose in her lap, is my sister.

Except it's not.

I know it's not. Kieran told me. The way she sits—too still. The way her eyes don't track when I move. The way her voice came out flat and dead when she said my name. But God, she looks exactly like Elise. Same dark hair. Same narrow shoulders. Same scar on her wrist from when she fell off her bike at twelve.

"Mara." Dorian's voice cuts through. "You're wasting time."

I tighten my fist. The shard flares hotter. It should hurt. It doesn't. It just hums, like it's trying to tell me something I'm too stupid to understand.

"What did you do to her?"

My voice comes out steadier than I feel.

Dorian tilts his head. That look on his face—