Chapter 63
TIMING IS EVERYTHING
Time doesn’t move the same here. It lurches. Stops. Stalls. Starts again when it feels like punishing me.
I cling to it anyway, measuring anything and everything.
Thirty minutes between rotations. Nine seconds for the cameras to sweep the expanse of a hallway, two for a keycard swipe to register. It’s not much, but it’s mine.
No one knows I’m doing it…or maybe they do and they don’t care, so long as I don’t act on it. Funny how counting used to feel like the only thing I could control. Now, it feels like the key to so much more.
Big talk for someone with no plan.
The ticking clock reminds me why I’m still keeping score.
There are still four days until graduation, but the whole polishing wing feels different.
Everyone’s moving faster, snapping orders with an edge that they don’t bother hiding behind their polished facades.
The enforcers’ comms buzz like they’re holding the place together with static.
Change is in the air, heavy enough to choke on.
Carr stopped me in the corridor yesterday. He didn’t bother with petty small talk. He just tapped the side of my cuff, checked the green light, and smiled as if he’d already scheduled my funeral.
He didn’t have to say anything. I got the message.
The world keeps turning. And me? I sit at my desk and count my breaths until I’m lightheaded. I try to hold them steady, but I keep losing track somewhere around thirty-nine. My pulse betrays me. My cuff buzzes at the inconsistency, and I almost laugh. Even breathing has rules here.
It’s fine. Totally fine.
I’m just trapped underground, being measured down to the second, waiting to see if my clock runs out before I have the chance to stop counting and start acting.