The change was immediate. Serenity's eyes rolled back slightly before closing completely. Her body went rigid, every muscle tense. A small sound escaped her throat—distress, pain, something.
I held my breath, watching. Waiting.
The seconds stretched into eternity.
Finally, her eyes opened. She exhaled shakily, her hand trembling slightly as she lowered it.
"That was... intense." She took a moment to collect herself. "I saw an old woman. She was crying."
"And?" I stepped closer, unable to help myself. "A funeral? A wedding? What was the context?"
"I couldn't tell." Frustration bled into her voice. "Ithinkshe was sad. Like she'd lost someone she loved deeply." She shook her head. "But remember—if this is a family heirloom, the vision might have nothing to do with Julia directly. It could be her grandmother, her great-grandmother, anyone."
My hopes deflated. "Was there more? Anything with Julia in it?" If not, we were back to square one. Guessing. Hoping. Drowning in uncertainty.
"Yes." Serenity met my gaze, and something in her expression made my heart stutter. "I saw you and Julia. Kissing."
The world tilted.
"It was real," she continued softly. "I felt the emotion behind it. The connection. But—" her face fell. "I can't tell you if it was the past or the future."
"There has to be a way." My hands curled into fists at my sides. I needed to know.Neededto. Because if it was the past, it meant nothing—just a memory of what we'd already had. But if it was the future...
If it was the future, it meant we had a chance. Meant she was coming back. Meant this wasn't over.
"Think, Serenity," Stone urged. "The setting. Were you somewhere you'd recognize?"
"Yes." I latched onto the idea desperately. "Were we at my house? A restaurant we've been to? Or somewhere new—a place we've never gone together?"
She closed her eyes, clearly trying to pull more details from the vision. "You were both dressed up. Julia in an elegant dress, you in a suit and tie." Her brow furrowed. "But nothing distinctive about either. And the location... it was blurred. I couldn't see where you were."
"He wears a suit every day," Stone pointed out, gesturing to me. "The shirt and tie colors change, but the basic look is the same. That doesn't help us."
"I know." Serenity's voice was thick with regret. "I'm sorry, Quentin. I wish I could give you more."
The hope that had flared died as quickly as it had ignited.
"Wait." Stone took the decorative case and twisted it open, removing the lipstick itself. "Try this. Just the lipstick, without the case."
He handed it to Serenity.
"Charlotte Tilbury, Pillow Talk." She read the label, then looked at me uncertainly. "I'm not sure this will—"
Her words cut off as her body went rigid again. Harder this time. A tremor ran through her, visible enough that Stone moved closer, ready to catch her if she fell.
My chest constricted.What is she seeing?
When her eyes opened, she looked shaken. Vulnerable in a way I'd rarely seen from her.
"Two things." Her voice came out unsteady. "First—you were together. In bed. Under the covers, thank heavens—I didn't see anything. But I still couldn't tell if it was past or future."
Stone shook his head. “That doesn’t help. What was the second thing you saw?"
Serenity turned the lipstick over in her hands, examining it more closely. "This." She twisted the base, and the bottom cap came free.
My blood ran cold.
A small thumb drive sat nestled in the hollow base of the lipstick tube.
