My heartbeatstopped.
“Mom,” I said carefully, stepping forward. “Lower the knife.”
“No,” she said without blinking.
“Not until he tells me the name of your favorite composer. Not until I’m sure heiswho he says he is. I took another step forward.
“Mom,” I said again, more firmly.
“Let me handle this.”
Because even with a blade to his throat, even with blood on his collar and time carved into his face…
He didn’t look scared. He looked like heneededme.
And suddenly, I remembered—The mission.The real reason he came back.My fingers curled into fists. So much for butterflies.
My father. Nathaniel Delacroix. Gone from this world.
Or so I thought. My mother lowered the knife with a slow reluctance, as if she still hoped his skin would peel back to reveal some kind of impostor beneath.
No apologies were exchanged. Not from her, and certainly not from him. That was just how we did things. No warmth. No reunions. Just a recalibration of our lives.
“You should’ve stayed dead,” I said, my voice icy.
He didn’t flinch.
But he looked at me just as he always had—calculating, proud, distant.
As if I were one of his creations, crafted by his own hands.
“I didn’t have a choice,” he replied. “I went dark for a reason.”
He stood tall, exuding that same unshakeable authority, even in a half-bleeding combat zone or standing trial behind closed doors. I stared at the man I believed I had killed.
“I watched you fall limp. You were alive all this time? Why now? Why return now?”
“There’s a mission,” he stated, devoid of pleasantries or apologies. Just orders. “High-priority. Coded Theta-Seven Black. Off-books. Global threat.”
“Once again, why now?” I pressed, frustration bubbling up. “Why me?”
“Because you’re the only one I trust to finish it,” he said plainly. “And because I trained you for this. You were made for this, Elizabeth.”
A familiar ache settled into my ribs, that relentless voice in my mind murmuring: Purpose equals worth. Obedience equals survival.
“You could’ve sent the data to the Agency,” my mother interjected, arms crossed. “You didn’t need to come here.”
“It’s not the data I need. It’s her.”
His gaze shifted back to me.
“And him.”
My blood turned to ice.
“What?”
“Noah,”
