The room was dim when Evan, James, woke again. Soft beeping filled the silence. Warm air hummed from the vent overhead.
His tiny body lay wrapped in a blanket, tucked against his mother's side as she slept, pale and exhausted, but breathing.
Breathing. He took comfort in that. In this unfamiliar world, she was the only anchor he had. He turned his head, slowly, painfully; newborn muscles barely obeyed him, and studied her face.
"Who are you?" he wondered silently. "And why did fate choose you to bring me back?"
His mother stirred slightly, her lashes fluttering. She winced, touching her abdomen with a trembling hand. A nurse entered quietly, whispering, "You're awake. How do you feel?"
His mother tried to reply. "Sore…lightheaded… but I'm okay."
"You worried us," the nurse said softly. "But you fought. You saved your baby."
James, Evan, felt the warmth of her hand resting near him. Saved him? No. He knew the truth. She saved them both. The nurse smiled at the two of them. "Have you chosen a name yet?"
His mother nodded weakly. "Evan…" she murmured. "Evan Thomas." James's inner world froze. Thomas. That name It stabbed him like a blade. His mind screamed. "Tom. Tom Walker. The man who, No. No. Not again."
But the nurse beamed. "Evan Thomas. Beautiful name. Strong." Strong. He hated how fate mocked him. He was trapped in an infant's body, helpless, frustrated, and forced to accept a name that echoed the man who murdered him.
The nurse left the room, and his new mother stroked the blanket around him with a fragile, trembling hand. "Evan… my precious boy…"
She didn't know the weight the name carried. He made a silent vow: "One day, I'll choose my own name. And they'll hear it again. All of them."
Footsteps approached the doorway. A doctor walked in, adjusting his glasses. "Ms. Reyes, how are you feeling now?"
Reyes. He memorized it instantly. Her name. Her identity. His new world. "I'm… managing," she rasped.
The doctor nodded. "Your blood levels are stabilizing. We'll monitor you for at least forty-eight hours." She nodded gratefully, but there was a strain behind her eyes. Evan felt her hand tremble again, a reflex of fear she tried to hide.
"Do you have family we can contact? A partner? Anyone we can call for support?"
She flinched. "No… it's just me."
The doctor hesitated. "Raising a newborn alone is challenging. If you need help"
"My son has me," she cut in, voice suddenly firm. "I'll manage."
Evan felt her resolve through the trembling curl of her fingers. She looked stronger than she felt. But he could tell, she was afraid of something. Or someone.
Another contraction of memory surged through his undeveloped brain, Maria's cold whisper: "Stop talking, James." Fear wrapped in silk. Threat wrapped in love. He knew that kind of woman.
He knew that kind of danger. But this new mother, Ms. Reyes, carried a different kind of fear. Not guilt. Not betrayal. Survival. And she was alone. Helpless. Just like he was.
Hours passed. Nurses came and went. Machines were detached. His mother dozed in and out of consciousness. Evan observed everything, absorbing voices, movements, faces.
Humanity looked very different from this angle. Very… tall. In his past life, power came to him effortlessly. He spoke, and rooms obeyed. He made decisions that shaped lives.
Here? He couldn't even turn his own head properly. It infuriated him. But it also sharpened him. Patience was a weapon now. He would grow. He would wait. He would learn.
He may be trapped in the smallest body he'd ever known, but his mind, his mind was still James Wood. Still calculating. Still vengeful. Still alive.
A sudden noise snapped him from his thoughts, rapid footsteps approaching the room. His mother lifted her head weakly. "Is someone coming?"
A nurse hurried in. "Ms. Reyes… someone's here to see you."
Her eyes widened. "Wh-who?"
"A man. Says he's family."
Evan felt her heartbeat spike. Instantly. Visibly. "No," she whispered. "I don't… I don't have, please tell him I can't see"
The door opened before she could finish. A tall man stepped inside. Dark-grey jacket. Sharp jaw. Cold eyes that scanned the room with a quiet authority. His voice was smooth. Controlled. Too controlled. "Rosa."
Rosa. So that was his new mother's name. Rosa Reyes shrank back against the pillows, clutching Evan protectively. "You, " she stammered. "What are you doing here?
Evan studied the man. Tall. Well-fed. Shoulders of someone used to command. Expression of someone who offered no comfort. A predator in human skin.
The man stepped closer. "You didn't answer your phone." "I didn't want to." Rosa's voice cracked. "I told you, I'm done with this. "He ignored that. "You had the baby."
Rosa swallowed, her eyes darting to the door. "Please leave. The staff doesn't know,"
"Mmm." He reached into his pocket. "Well, I brought something."
He pulled out an envelope. Thick. Overstuffed. It slapped lightly onto the hospital table. Rosa flinched as if struck. "I told you," she whispered. "I don't want your money."
"It's not a choice." The man leaned in closer. "You will take it. And you will disappear. With the child.
Evan's small body tensed. Disappear? Why? What danger did this man represent?
"What, what do you want?"
Rosa asked, voice trembling. The man's reply was calm. "You will raise him far away. No one must know."
Her lip quivered. "Why?"
He paused. For the first time, a crack of emotion showed. Not compassion. Fear. "He can't grow up here," the man said. "It's not safe. For either of you." Evan's mind raced. Not safe? Because of him?
Or because of someone else? Something else? Rosa swallowed. "I told you, I'm done with your world. I don't want any" The man cut her off
"This isn't about what you want," he said coldly. "This is about staying alive."
Rosa hugged Evan closer. "Get out." For several long seconds, the man didn't move. Then he straightened, smoothing his jacket.
"As you wish," he said quietly. "But remember this "
He pointed at Evan. "That child is a target now."
Rosa gasped. Evan froze. The man stepped back toward the door. "When you're ready to accept help," he said softly, "you know how to reach me."
He disappeared into the hallway. Leaving behind silence. Then Rosa broke down. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she held Evan tightly. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so, so sorry."
Evan listened. Watched. Absorbed. His new life was already surrounded by danger. A mother hiding from someone powerful. A man desperate to control their fate. A child, him, caught in the middle.
"Not again," he vowed silently. "I will not live another life ruled by fear.
And as Rosa continued to cry, holding him like he was the last good thing in her world, he made another promise: "Whoever threatens her… threatens me." New life. New enemies. New war brewing. And he was just getting started.