Page 91 of Somno Slave

That’s not—

I look at Peter. At the console.

My throat tightens.

I didn’t know he was going to play the water drops.

I didn’t know that there was going to be noise in today’s interrogation.

And yet...Turn the sound off tomorrow.

My fingers press into the edge of the desk, grounding, searching for something solid enough to push against the thought as it unfolds.

How did he know?

No. He couldn’t have.

It was a dream.

My gaze drifts back to the glass.

He hasn’t moved, not even slightly, but something in my chest shifts anyway, a quiet, creeping awareness that settles deeper the longer I look at him.

I swallow hard.

He told me.Beforeit happened.

My jaw tightens slightly.

Peter leans forward. His attention shifts fully to the monitors. Away from the dial.

And something in me moves with him.

I don’t decide.

I don’t plan it.

I don’t think at all.

My hand is already there, already reaching for the dial. Already—Click.

The red light disappears. The change is so small it’s almost nothing.

I freeze. My hand stays where it is for a fraction too long, my pulse jumping hard enough that I feel it in my throat.

I didn’t mean that.

But I’m already adjusting the box, enough to hide the absence of the light, and then I’m withdrawing quickly.

I sink myself into my chair quickly, aware of every movement. My fingers curl into the armrest as the cold spreads through me properly now, sharp, violent.

Traitor.

My mind seethes.

My hand twitches toward the switch again.

I could fix it.