"Tomorrow" hung over the present like a knife. Alexander's war-room intellect mapped safehouses, extracted assets, and planned twelve defensive perimeters throughout the course of the night. The disturbing letter was slipped under Tatiana's pillow like a morbid fairy-tale token, and the youngster slept soundly in the adjacent room.He discovered her seated in the breakfast nook at dawn, already awake, with the mail in front of her. She had completely opened it.His voice was raspy from lack of sleep as he said, "You shouldn't have touched that.""It's not for you," she said in a tone that was both innocent and eerily serene. She took the sheet out. The blood drop had now dried to a rust-brown, but the word "TOMORROW" was still visible. Alexander's stomach dropped when he saw what else was scribbled underneath it in a familiar, frenetic script.The handwriting was that of an adult Tatiana. The handwriting on the island's notes.BEFORE I BITE, KILL ME. T. LOVE.Smuggled back via the loo

The clone pointed at the idle town car with its firearm. In his imagination, Alexander was evaluating a hostage situation in which the captive was also a temporal bomb in a war room. He computed the clone's reaction time, distances, and angles. "Sniper locked on the driver," Grayson said in a tinny whisper through his headset. Speak the word.Alexander muttered, "Negative." "The child is in the direct line of fire." She was a delicate vessel of jumbled time, not just a youngster. The impact of a bullet may totally destabilize her.His hands were on display as he approached the automobile gently. This region of bizarre confrontation was isolated as the fog muffled the sounds of the airport surrounding them.Benjamin, the epitome of avuncular charm, grinned through the open window. Tatiana-2, the toddler, babbled incoherently while playing with his silk tie. "Alex, she's so cute. Really. possesses your eyes. Well, I guess her eyes. a characteristic of the family.Benjamin, what do you w

The first shock came from the sun. It was just like any other. Filtered through the changing leaves of an old oak tree on a peaceful street in Georgetown, it was soft and fall-like. There was no crimson hue of an unending siege, no stifling glow from a tower of thorns. The fragrance of coffee, moist leaves, and automobile exhaust filled the air, the unremarkable scent of a city in operation.Disoriented, Alexander stood on the sidewalk with Tatiana's hand still in his. She was no longer in ruins at seventeen. A rush of neutral, warm energy swept over them as they went through the entrance. She seems... natural now. Maybe twenty-five. wearing a soft leather jacket, boots, and black jeans. Her face remained untouched, glowing with a health that was unaffected by thorns or hunger. She was both remarkably familiar and novel at the same time.He lowered his gaze to himself. His hands, rough from prison, were smooth. He no longer had the scar on his cheek. Instead of the Phantom's armor, he

The sterilized document was slowly and viscerally defiled by the oozing blood-ink. Warm and genuine, it followed the form's lines and trickled onto Tatiana's thumb.The clipboard was not dropped by her. Her knuckles turned white as she tightened her grip. She glanced from the bleeding name to the calm, contented expression on Lucy Martin's face."How?" A frozen scalpel was Tatiana's voice.Lucy's smile persisted, but it fixed itself like a mannequin's. "How come, sweetheart? All of this is routine procedure. The father had already given his details. Mr. Whitaker was a very generous donor. He is paying for the entire cost of the private suite. Her tone was syrupy and pleasant, unaffected by the horror that was happening on the paper.Alexander took a step forward, his body pulsating with a protectiveness that seemed both natural and acquired. His gaze shifted from the bassinet to his daughter and finally to the bleeding certificate. From the echo chamber of his forgotten recollections,

The silence of the warehouse was a tangible presence, full of recollections and the sound of a gunshot that had never occurred here. Tatiana and Alexander were bathed in a horrible, sporadic glare as the red exit sign buzzed and flashed. He continued to hold their daughter's ghost in his arms, swaying from the ghostly weight.With the taste of fruit and sacrifice still in her mouth, Tatiana stood erect. The tranquility of the hospital and the clean world's trap had vanished. They had returned to their original story's grim, actual battlefield. But it was all wrong. There was no youthful trinity, no sniper's laser, and no Grayson lurking in the shadows. The crushing weight of a decision that had apparently accomplished nothing, and just the two of them."Mira..." Alexander's voice cracked. His eyes begged for clarification and hope as he glanced at his empty hands before turning to face Tatiana.Tatiana stated, "She's not gone," but her tone seemed unconvincing. She was in shock. The p