“Be careful what you say,” Nazarin says, leaning close to me.

I rest my head in my hands. I want to leave all of this. I want to give up. Everything is too muddled, too confusing; but if I give up, then Tila goes into stasis.

“You ready?” he asks.

I nod, and he presses the button and the hologram pops up like a macabre children’s picture book.

It’s Mia, alone. She’s not connected to the machine, but she’s just come off it. The medical information scrolls to the right of her, listing all the physical ways the Zeal and Verve have messed her up. Malnutrition. Kidney disease. Skin abscesses near injection sites. Tooth decay. Jaundice. It’s reflected in the hologram—Mia is thin and unhealthy, just as she was the last time I saw her, strapped to the Chair, wires emerging from her arms as she dreamed her nightmares in the Zealot lounge of Mirage. But in this her eyes are open, moving from side to side as she staggers back to the hovel where she lives.

Lived.

I swallow, unable to look away. A dark, shadowy figure comes up behind her. A man, most likely, judging from his height. His face is covered in a dark fabric mask. He grabs Mia around the neck and pulls her to him, whispers something in her ear.

I pause it. “How do they know he whispered to her?” Mia’s face is also a lot more detailed and expressive than the re-creation of Tila murdering Vuk had been, and everything is shown from the same angle. I can answer my own question.

“It was caught on camera,” Nazarin says.

“Do you think it was the Ratel?”

“I honestly don’t know. I hope not. And this isn’t their usual MO. If they order a hit, they want you to know it.” His jaw works, and he must be thinking of his partner. He presses play again.

Mia’s eyes widen at whatever the masked man whispers. “Which lost soul are you?” she asks, loud enough to be heard by the camera.

He doesn’t respond except to grab her face in his hands.

“I wanted to try and be good again. I suppose it was always too late.” She closes her eyes. “I forgive you.”

He breaks her neck. She falls to the ground. The man is gone. Mia is also gone, even if her body remains.

The image goes dark and I turn away. A round, heavy weight of dread and grief sits in my stomach. I cross my arms over my torso and hunch forward.