I feel my throat close around the weight of all the things I don’t want to feel. I take a breath through my teeth and force it out slow.
“Did it mean anything to you?” I ask, almost a whisper. “Or was I just another anomaly to catalogue?”
He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even blink. But then—he moves. Just once. Reaches for me, fast and raw, pulling me into him with a suddenness that knocks the air from my lungs.
His arms wrap around me like a shield that’s shaking. His forehead presses to mine. His breath is uneven.
“It meant everything,” he says, voice breaking on the edges. “That’s the problem.”
I stand there, frozen, feeling his heartbeat race through the plates of his chestpiece. Mine tries to sync with it, but it keeps missing. Off-beat. Off-rhythm. Like us.
I pull back just enough to look at him. “Then don’t shut me out. Not now.”
His hand lifts like he’s going to cup my cheek, but it hovers instead, fingers curling against nothing. “If I hold you too long, I’ll keep you. And if I keep you, they’ll take you from me faster.”
I stare at him, stunned.
And then I’m angry.
“You don’t get to make that decision for me.”
His jaw tightens.
“You don’t get to decide what I’m worth protecting if you’re not going to fight for me,” I hiss.
“Mara—”
“No. You don’t get to say my name like it’s sacred right after telling me I’m already halfway to erasure.”
He takes a half-step back, and it feels like a door slamming.
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“Then act like it.”
The silence between us now is jagged. Bloody. Something sharp under the skin.
He turns away.
“Tatek.”
“We’ll find a way out,” he says, facing the wall now. “But you need to be prepared. From this moment forward, every move is watched. Every word recorded. Any deviation from behavioral norms increases the algorithm’s certainty.”
“You mean if I stop acting like myself, I disappear faster.”
“Yes.”
I let out a breath that’s more curse than exhale. “That’s ironic.”
His head bows slightly, like the weight of this isn’t just mine to carry. “You can’t let them see panic.”
“You want me to act normal while I wait for my mind to be dissected?”
“I want you to trust me.”
The quiet that follows that sentence is the most dangerous one yet.
“Then don’t lie to me again,” I say, and my voice is steel now. “Don’t pull away and pretend it’s tactical when really, you’re just afraid of what this means.”
