I don’t react.
Don’t move.
Don’t give it away.
“Krago’s inside,” the guard says.
“I know,” the voice answers, stepping past him.
Closer.
Closer.
I lift my head just enough as he enters.
The disguise is good.
Not perfect.
But good enough that no one looking casually would question it.
I look at him.
Really look.
And there?—
A flicker.
Recognition hits sharp and immediate, but I swallow it down before it can reach my face.
Instead, I shift slightly, letting my shoulders sag just a fraction more, like I’m tired, like I’ve given up fighting the position I’m in.
He steps closer.
Not too close.
Not yet.
“You’re holding up,” he says, his tone rough, dismissive.
I tilt my head, squinting at him like I’m trying to place the voice.
“Should I not be?” I ask, letting a hint of irritation slip through.
His gaze locks onto mine for half a second.
Enough.
“Depends,” he says, his voice lower now, just enough that it doesn’t carry. “How much longer you plan on sitting here.”
I shift slightly, letting the rope pull.
“Long enough,” I reply.
His eyes flick to my hands.
Then to the beam behind me.
