“With both eyes?”
“Simultaneously.”
“That’s a shame. I had this whole lizard thing going.”
“I am not lizard.”
“You sure?” she asks, teasing laced into her tone. “You’ve got the cold stare down.”
I study her. “You find me cold?”
“I find you weird.”
This seems to satisfy her. She returns her gaze to the datapad in her lap—one of the Coalition-issue tablets, severely limited, no outbound comms. She taps it like it’s being difficult, then sighs.
“You’re very quiet,” she says.
“I do not believe in unnecessary speech.”
“That must be why you’re everyone’s favorite dinner guest.”
“You are mocking.”
“Little bit.”
“Why?”
She shrugs. “Because if I don’t, I’ll start screaming.”
This is honesty. I feel it land between us like weight. I step closer.
“Do you wish me to leave?”
She doesn’t look up. “If I did, you’d already be gone.”
That response stops me. I log it in my memory and mark it as significant.
CHAPTER 3
MARA
Iwake like I’ve been dragged to the surface of myself.
Not like rising from sleep. Like gasping from water. My heart's thudding hard against my ribs, and my throat is dry like I’ve been shouting—but there’s no sound. Just that suffocating station silence, thick and unmoving, like the air’s decided to keep its secrets.
I blink up at the dark. No blinking indicators. No blinking anything. For a second, I think the lights are out station-wide—but no, the faint blue glow from the recessed corner panel still hums. Soft, sterile. The ever-present hum of recycled oxygen and artificial calm.
I sit up slowly, every hair on my arms raised like I’ve been touched.
Except I haven’t.
But someone said my name.
I’m sure of it.
Not loud. Not urgent. Just… there. Whispered, close but not in the room. Like it passed through the air just as I woke.
Mara.
