Chapter 10
Zora's words still hung in entryway. Lie delivered. Air went tight after.
I stood two steps behind her, back against warm wall, lamplight yellow on my hands. Gold pendant cold against my skin. Phone in Zora's hand showed green EXEMPT, light washing her knuckles. Outside, SUV lights pulsed red through frosted glass panel, threw stripe across dark wood floor. No one moved outside for beat. Then boots shifted on sidewalk. Static crackled.
Zora didn't look back at me. Her shoulders rose. She kept facing double doors, chin up, brown crop top under dark open jacket tight as she breathed. I heard her inhale, slow, controlled. My own breath caught. I counted pulse in throat.
Exterior voice came through door, flat, amplified. Not shouting. Calm, rehearsed.
"Nyla Banks, continuity response."
Words landed exact. Same phrase from before. My name said like checklist item. I felt Zora's fingers twitch. She started to answer again, mouth opening.
Voice continued before she could. Same tone, no pause for her.
"Continuity response requires selected subject voice or face. EXEMPT proxy not accepted."
Zora's jaw locked. She tried anyway.
"She's not—" she said. "I'm telling you she's not here. You have my ID. I'm exempt. Check again."
Static. Then script, unmoved.
"EXEMPT proxy rejected. This is mandatory verbal check. Nyla Banks, continuity response. Respond verbally or present at doorway."
Warm lamplight buzzed overhead. Red flash swept entryway again. I stared at frosted glass. Could see silhouette outside, broad, still. Not reaching for handle yet. Waiting for protocol.
Zora stepped half-step back toward me without turning, put her body more between me and door. Her voice dropped to whisper, fast.
"Don't," she breathed. "Don't say anything. They want you to confirm. If you talk, they have you."
I didn't move. My mouth dry. Gold bracelet pressed into wrist. Phone in my hand — my phone, dark screen still showing FINAL NOTICE, NYLA BANKS SELECTED in red, red record icon below — felt heavy, hot. I wanted to shove it in pocket, hide it, but red glow stayed in palm.
Zora whispered again, even lower.
"If you stay quiet, they got nothing. They can't—"
Exterior voice cut in, louder, still flat, now with clock.
"Nyla Banks, continuity response required. Silence will be logged as non-response. Non-response authorizes forced entry for welfare check. Thirty seconds."
My stomach dropped. Forced entry. Words said plain, like reading form. Not threat. Procedure.
Zora's hand found mine behind her back. Squeezed hard. Her fingers cold. She leaned back just enough I could see her eyes, wide, reddish tint in dark wavy hair catching lamplight.
"Let them log it," she mouthed. "Let them wait."
I looked at door. Double doors with dark wood frame, frosted panel. Handle still. Outside, second silhouette moved into view at edge of glass, closer now. Radio chirp. Then voice again, counting down without emotion.
"Nyla Banks, continuity response. Twenty seconds to verbal check."
My throat tightened. I understood trap. Speak and confirm SELECTED location — give them voice match, face match, retrieval locked. Stay silent and give them reason to open door anyway — welfare check, continuity protocol, legal cover to breach. Silence no longer shield. Silence now trigger.
Zora squeezed harder, nails into my skin.
"Don't give it to them," she whispered, voice breaking barely. "Please."
I parted lips. No sound came. Breath shallow. I could taste copper panic. I looked at Zora's green EXEMPT screen, then at my red SELECTED screen. Two phones, same house, opposite answers. Her status meant nothing if my voice needed.
Voice outside, final prompt, same flat cadence.
May you like
"Nyla Banks, continuity response. Ten seconds. Respond verbally or present at doorway. EXEMPT proxy not accepted."
Red light pulsed. Lamplight held steady. Entryway shrank to threshold line between warm interior and dusk outside. I stood frozen on one side, decision pressing on chest, time running, door still closed but no longer able to keep them out without me.
