The mirror house groaned like an ancient cathedral built from fractured time. Tylor felt its pull in his bones, the way light shifted against the walls, distorting not just reflections—but intentions. Every surface showed possibilities, not just appearances. One mirror shimmered with his twelve-year-old self holding Amaira's hand. Another showed him alone in a crumbling world.
Kayla walked ahead, her fingers skimming a mirrored column. "These aren't memories," she whispered. "They're decisions we didn't make."
Behind her, Amaira lingered beside a mirror that showed Lila alive, smiling, brushing her hair back behind her ear. "It's not fair," she murmured.
Tylor stepped away from his own reflection, heart heavy. "We can't stay distracted."
But something tugged at his mind, deeper than the mirror visions: a question long buried—one he hadn't dared ask until now.
Why did Dad kidnap Amaira? Not how. Not when. Why?
Daniel had been painted as both traitor and protector. But the kidnapping—the very act that shattered their family—didn't fit the man Tylor remembered crying at his sentencing. It was too violent. Too calculated.
And yet... too personal.
As they descended a staircase carved from obsidian glass, Tylor gripped Kayla's arm. "What if the kidnapping wasn't to hurt Amaira?" he said. "What if it was to protect her?"
Kayla frowned. "From what?"
Before Tylor could answer, the hallway began to ripple—mirrors flickering like breathing lungs. One cracked open, revealing not a reflection, but a memory they had never seen.
A lab.
A young Daniel, frantic, holding a crying Amaira in one arm and burning documents in the other. Alarms blared. Sarah Vey's voice echoed through intercoms: "Bring the subject back. She's critical to the equation."
Amaira gasped. "They weren't just watching me… they were using me."
The mirror snapped shut.
Tylor staggered back. "Dad didn't kidnap you from us. He kidnapped you from them."
Elias's voice came from behind. "And maybe… he failed."
They turned to find him staring at a suspended prism, hovering mid-air like a heartbeat. Inside it flickered countless tiny timelines—all featuring Amaira, each ending differently. Happy, broken, missing. One showed her vanishing entirely into light.
Kayla approached the prism. "It's a multiversal convergence anchor," she said, astonished. "Something's trying to… reclaim Amaira across timelines. That's why the fractures haven't settled."
Tylor looked down at his hands. "And maybe Dad knew. Maybe the kidnapping was his only way to keep her out of the system."
A riddle scratched itself across the wall in glowing script:
"A child of time, taken twice.Once to break. Once to heal.Find the clock that ticks in silence—And you'll know what was real."
Kayla repeated the final line. "The clock that ticks in silence..."
Amaira's face turned pale. "There's one in the hallway back home. It never ticks. Never did."
They shared a glance. Home was calling them back—but this time, not for peace.
For answers.
And maybe... for the final truth.