Page 273 of Immune

“Yeah, I didn’t think so either,” Ewan agrees.

His agreement should settle me. The validation should make me feel better. Instead, it makes the prickle along my spine sharpen. It proves it’s not just me. He hears it too. The wrongness in the voice. The careful outline of the lie. The way every single instinct I own has gone still and silent, waiting for the trap to reveal itself.

Because it’s not just one thing. It’s all the little things that are lined up in a row.

No name.

No explanation.

No friendly voice.

No guard I recognize.

No Mercer.

No Valeria.

Just a stranger at the door using Hale’s title like it’s a key and expecting us to open the door.

Something is wrong here. Something doesn’t feel right.

Ewan feels the change in me. His expression shifts and what little left of his humor drains right out of him so fast that it almost leaves a mark.

“You notice he didn’t use names?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah.”

“No guard escort. At least, that’s what I’m hearing. Just one body out there.”

“Yeah.”

“And they know which room to knock.” His jaw flexes once. “How else would they know you were here?”

My hands still on my bandana just as I was about to lift it over my mouth, and Ewan’s eyes meet mine. Neither of us says the worst part right away, but it’s very obvious.

They don’t know him, and they don’t know me.

Yet, somehow, they knew where I was.

My stomach cools. “Someone told them.”

Ewan’s jaw tightens. “Or someone watched.”

The words hang between us like smoke.

Or someone watched.

My gaze flicks instinctively around the room, checking all the corners I already know are empty, the cracks I’ve already checked, and the shadows that suddenly feel less like shadows and more like eyes.

I hate that. I hate it so much that my fucking teeth ache.

Another knock hits the door, harder this time. Then the stranger’s voice orders, “Open up. Now.”

Ewan’s stare stays on mine. “We don’t have to go out there.”

I laugh once, quiet and humorless. “Yeah, because hiding in here while someone with fake orders stands outside the door won’t end in disaster.”

“Could throw something at him,” he offers.