Echo Winters' POV
"Her name is Seraphine Vale. And I just found out she's wanted for terrorism."
Lyric Ashcroft stood on live television, calling Sera a terrorist.
Her son. The boy she'd given up. Destroying her on camera.
Sera collapsed to her knees on the rooftop, making a sound like a wounded animal.
I grabbed her shoulders. "He doesn't know the truth! Morgana got to him first—"
"He hates me." Tears streamed down her face. "My own son hates me and I deserve it. I abandoned him. I'm a terrible mother—"
"STOP IT!" I shook her hard. "You were nineteen and scared and alone! You did what you had to do!"
But she wasn't listening. She was breaking apart in front of me.
Kade knelt beside her, wrapping his arms around her. "We'll fix this. I promise, Sera, we'll—"
"How?" Her voice came out raw and broken. "He's already made up his mind. The whole world just watched him say I'm a criminal."
On Kade's phone, the press conference continued. Lyric looked stiff, uncomfortable, like someone was forcing him to speak.
"I want to make it clear," he said carefully, "that I'm cooperating fully with the police. If Seraphine Vale tries to contact me, I will report it immediately."
Then he walked off stage, ignoring the reporters shouting questions.
Something felt wrong about this. Very wrong.
"Wait," I said slowly. "Play that back. The part where he says her name."
Kade rewound the video. We watched again.
"Her name is Seraphine Vale."
"There!" I pointed. "Did you see his eyes? He looked directly at the camera when he said her name. Like he was trying to tell her something."
Sera lifted her head. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know. But that wasn't the look of someone who hates you. That was..." I struggled to find the words. "That was someone sending a message."
Kade frowned. "You think Morgana forced him to do this?"
"Obviously. But I think Lyric's trying to warn Sera somehow." I grabbed Sera's phone. "Call him. Right now."
"I can't! You heard what he said—"
"He said if you contact him, he'll report it. But what if he contacts you first?" I was already pulling up his public social media. "Look. He posted something ten minutes ago."
We crowded around the screen. Lyric's post was a photo of a piano with sheet music. The caption read: Sometimes the best songs are the ones our mothers taught us. Even if we don't remember learning them.
Sera gasped. "That's... that's 'Lullaby in Violet.' I wrote it when I was pregnant with him. I sang it at the hospital before they took him away."
"He remembers," Kade said quietly. "Somehow, he remembers you."
"But how? He was a newborn—"
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: Stop talking on that rooftop. They're listening. Move NOW. —L
L for Lyric.
"RUN!" I yelled.
We scrambled toward the fire escape just as something whistled through the air.
A dart hit the wall where Sera had been standing. Then another. And another.
"Tranquilizer darts!" Kade pulled us down the fire escape. "Morgana's people are here!"
We slid down the metal ladder. My hands burned but I didn't stop. Behind us, footsteps pounded across the roof.
We hit the alley and ran.
"This way!" Sera grabbed my hand, pulling me left. "There's a subway entrance two blocks—"
Gunshots cracked the air. Real bullets this time, not tranquilizers.
We dove behind a dumpster. My heart hammered so hard I thought it would explode.
"They're trying to kill us now," Kade panted. "The tranquilizers were just in case. Morgana wants us dead."
"No," Sera said. "She wants it to look like we died resisting arrest. Gives her the perfect ending."
More gunshots. Getting closer.
Then a black van screeched to a stop in front of us. The door slid open.
Maven sat in the driver's seat, purple hair wild. "GET IN!"
We didn't think. Just moved.
The van peeled out before the door even closed. Bullets pinged off the metal sides.
"Who's shooting at you?" Maven demanded.
"Morgana's people. Or fake police. Maybe both." I was shaking so hard my teeth chattered. "She framed us for terrorism and now she's cleaning up loose ends."
Maven cursed and drove faster. "I'm taking you to the safe house. It's outside the city. No one knows about it."
"Morgana knows everything," Sera said hollowly. "She's a time traveler too. She's ten steps ahead of us."
"Then we need to get twenty steps ahead of her." Maven glanced in the rearview mirror. "And I think I know how."
She handed me her tablet. "Before all hell broke loose, I was investigating Morgana's past. Look what I found."
It was a news article from twelve years ago. The headline read: LOCAL MUSIC TEACHER DIES IN SUSPICIOUS CAR ACCIDENT. DAUGHTER MORGANA HAX INHERITS ESTATE.
"Her mother died," I said. "So what?"
"Keep reading."
I scrolled down. "Police suspected foul play but couldn't prove anything. Morgana was twenty-eight. Her mother's life insurance was worth two million dollars. That's how Morgana started her talent agency."
"Now look at the date," Maven said.
My blood froze. "This happened in March 2013."
"Exactly when Morgana says she time-traveled back to," Sera whispered. "Ten years ago. She came back to March 2013."
"Which means," Kade said slowly, "she came back to the exact moment before her mother died."
Understanding crashed over me. "She killed her own mother. For the insurance money. And she's been planning her empire ever since."
"If we can prove that—" Sera started.
"We can't," Maven interrupted. "The case was closed years ago. No evidence. But..." She smiled grimly. "What if we find other time travelers Morgana recruited? The ones she mentioned. Get them to testify against her?"
"They won't turn on her," I said. "She probably has leverage on all of them."
"Then we give them better leverage." Kade's eyes gleamed. "We offer them protection. Freedom from her control. A chance to actually fix their past lives instead of being Morgana's puppets."
It could work. Maybe.
My phone buzzed again. Another text from Lyric: Meet me at the old recording studio on Fifth Street. Midnight. Come alone, Seraphine. I know the truth about everything. And I know how to stop Morgana. But you have to trust me. —Your son
Sera read the message and started crying. "He called himself my son."
"It's obviously a trap," Kade said immediately.
"Or it's a miracle," Sera whispered. "My son remembers me. He wants to help."
"Morgana could be using him," Maven warned. "Forcing him to lure you in."
"I don't care." Sera's jaw set with determination. "I'm going. He's my son. I'm not abandoning him again."
"Then I'm coming with you," I said firmly.
"Me too," Kade added.
"He said come alone—"
"And I said I'm coming." Kade's voice left no room for argument. "You don't get to die without me, Sera. We're in this together now."
Maven pulled up to an old warehouse. "This is the safe house. You have six hours until midnight. Get some rest. Clean up. Eat something."
But none of us could rest.
We sat in the warehouse, planning, arguing, trying to figure out if Lyric's message was real or another one of Morgana's traps.
At 11:45 PM, we headed to Fifth Street.
The old recording studio was dark. Abandoned. Perfect place for an ambush.
"I don't like this," Kade muttered, hand on his gun.
"Me neither," I agreed. "But we're doing it anyway."
We pushed open the door.
Inside, a single light illuminated the center of the room.
And standing under it was Lyric Ashcroft.
But he wasn't alone.
Five other people stood with him. Young. Scared-looking. Familiar somehow.
"Welcome," Lyric said. His voice was cold. Professional. "Thank you for coming. I'm sorry to do this."
"Do what?" Sera asked.
Then I recognized one of the people standing with Lyric. A girl with red hair and green eyes.
My roommate from college. Who'd died in a car crash three years ago.
"Oh God," I breathed. "You're all dead. You all died young."
"And we all came back," the redhead said. "Just like you. Just like Morgana. We're all time travelers."
Lyric stepped forward. "Morgana recruited us. Gave us new lives. New chances. And in exchange, we work for her."
"You're her army," Sera whispered, betrayed. "You're the five she mentioned."
"Six now." Lyric's eyes were sad but determined. "Because tonight, you three are joining us. Or you're dying. Morgana's orders."
"You're my son," Sera said brokenly. "Please, Lyric, you have to remember—"
"I do remember." A tear slid down his cheek. "I remember your voice singing me to sleep when I was a baby. I remember feeling safe. Loved. And then I remember waking up in the adoption agency, screaming for my mother who never came back."
"I was nineteen! I had nothing to give you—"
"I know. I understand. I even forgive you." More tears fell. "But Morgana saved me. She found me when I aged out of foster care with nowhere to go. She made me a star. She gave me everything you couldn't."
"She's using you!" I yelled. "She's a murderer! She killed her own mother!"
"I know," Lyric said quietly. "We all know what she is. But she's also the only person who gave us second chances. So we're loyal to her. Even if it means hurting you."
The other five time travelers moved forward, surrounding us.
"Last chance," Lyric said. "Join Morgana. Or die trying to fight her."
Sera looked at her son—the baby she'd given up, now a weapon aimed at her heart.
"I won't fight you," she whispered. "If you want to kill me, Lyric, then do it. But I won't hurt my own child."
Lyric raised his hand. The others raised theirs too. They were all holding something.
Guns.
Six guns pointed at us.
"I'm sorry, Mother," Lyric whispered.
And pulled the trigger.