Kaya's lips parted, a whisper forming in her head before she dared say it aloud.
A watch…
The picture he painted was vivid—too vivid. Bleached hair, heels, skirt, a dark shirt, and a wristwatch. Not old-world clothes. Not ancient fashion.
Modern. Her world's fashion.
The realization struck Kaya hard. This wasn't some long-lost traveler from centuries ago. Everything he described had been in trend just a few years ago. Four, maybe five at most.
Her mind raced.
But Veer's brother sitting across from her was no boy. He was grown, already nearing his thirties.
If his mother had only arrived here five years ago… how could he exist?
The thought slammed into her, sharp and unrelenting.
It doesn't make sense.
