"Targets eliminated in sector three," the woman said into a radio with cold efficiency, and her voice was Liora's voice exactly, indistinguishable from her own speech patterns and tone. "Moving to sector four."
She walked past the camera without another glance, and the video ended abruptly.
"That's not me," Liora said, but her voice was barely audible even to herself. "That's not, it can't be....."
"Your DNA was found at the scene," Veyra said relentlessly, driving each point home like a nail into a coffin. "Hair samples. Blood from where you cut yourself on broken glass during the attack. Fingerprints on shell casings. Everything points to you, Princess. Every single piece of evidence."
"Then someone planted it," Liora said, grasping desperately at any explanation that made sense. "Someone who looks like me planted evidence to frame me for this."
"Someone who looks identical to you down to childhood scars? Who has your DNA? Who has your exact voice and speech patterns?" Veyra's laugh was harsh and disbelieving. "You're not even trying anymore. Your lies are getting increasingly desperate and implausible."
"They're not lies!"
"Then prove it," Veyra challenged, her voice hard as steel. "Tell me who this doppelganger is. Tell me how someone could possibly replicate your DNA, your appearance, your voice, everything about you. Tell me anything that makes more sense than the obvious truth, that you committed these murders and your father handed you over to face justice for your crimes."
Liora opened her mouth to respond, searching for words that would convince this woman of her innocence, but nothing came out. Because she didn't have answers to those questions. She had nothing but her own certainty that she hadn't done this terrible thing, and that certainty was starting to feel less solid with every passing hour of torture and doubt.
What if I'm wrong? A traitorous voice whispered insidiously in her mind. What if I did it and blocked it out? What if I'm crazy and don't even know it? What if I'm the monster they say I am?
"No," she said aloud, trying to convince herself as much as Veyra. "No, I'm not crazy. I didn't do this."
Veyra studied her for a long moment with something that might have been professional interest or might have been pity. "You know what's sad, Princess? I almost believe that you believe that. I think you've constructed such an elaborate denial in your mind that you've actually convinced yourself of your own innocence. The human mind is capable of extraordinary self-deception when confronted with an unbearable truth." She pocketed her phone with finality. "But it doesn't matter what you believe. It matters what the truth is. And the truth, supported by overwhelming evidence, is that you murdered fifty-three innocent people."
She turned to leave, her business apparently concluded, then paused as if remembering something important.
"Oh, and one more thing. Alpha Thessian asked me to inform you that at hour forty-eight, we'll be moving to phase two of your... adjustment process. I suggest you use the next thirteen hours to prepare yourself mentally."
"What's phase two?" Liora asked, hating how much fear was evident in her voice.
Veyra smiled, and it was not a kind smile, it was the smile of someone who knew what horrors were coming and found them appropriate. "You'll find out soon enough. Let's just say sleep deprivation was the gentle introduction, the warm-up act. Things are about to get much more intense."
She walked to the elevator and disappeared inside, leaving Liora alone with her guards once more.
Darius immediately turned the music back up to its punishing volume. Kira picked up her incident report and continued reading from where she'd left off, her voice a monotonous drone of death and suffering.
"Subject thirty-seven, female, age eight, died from....."
Liora sank to the floor, her legs finally giving out completely after supporting her for so many hours. She was shaking violently, whether from exhaustion, fear, or the cold from being repeatedly soaked with water, she didn't know anymore. Everything had blurred together into one continuous nightmare.
Thirteen hours until phase two. Thirty-seven hours total until the seventy-two-hour mark. And three weeks until Thessian ripped her throat out.
I need to think, Liora told herself desperately, trying to marshal her fractured thoughts. I need to figure this out. There has to be an explanation. There has to be....
But her thoughts kept scattering like startled birds taking flight, refusing to stay in place long enough for her to examine them properly. She couldn't hold onto a single idea long enough to follow it to its logical conclusion.