The broken water line stopped dripping before the guards left.
Bram Kendrick counted eight pairs of boots moving away through the corpse passage. Commander Cynthia’s steps remained last. They paused once near the guard post, then continued toward the furnace stairs.
A bolt dropped outside the vestibule.
Selene Voss had locked herself in with him.
She leaned against the door long enough to pull off her right glove. Blood covered two knuckles. The cut across her hand was shallow, but the skin beneath it had begun to swell.
Bram shifted forward.
The chain scraped.
She looked at him at once. “Quiet.”
“They left.”
“They sealed the stairs.”
“And you broke a pipe.”
“It was already weak.”
“You hit it.”
Selene crossed to the shutoff valve and tightened it another quarter turn. The pipe
