Central Park was alive with spring. Sunlight dappled through the branches overhead, children shrieked on the playgrounds, joggers passed by with earbuds in, and everything smelled like hope.
Kara sat on a bench beneath a tree, watching Zia chase pigeons with wild abandon. It was their favorite spot in New York City a place where they could pretend the world was simple. That secrets didn't exist.
Zia twirled, laughing, her small hands raised as a dozen gray birds scattered. She wore a navy-blue dress and white sneakers, her curls bouncing with every step. Kara smiled faintly. The world saw her as just a mother. But sometimes, she felt more like a soldier guarding a treasure.
Then she felt it a shift in the air.
Someone watching.
Her gaze lifted slowly. Across the green, dressed in black slacks and a crisp white shirt, stood Xavier Blackthorn.
Kara's heart stilled.
He wasn't supposed to be here. Not today. Not ever. She had spent five years avoiding places where he might appear. And yet here he was. Looking exactly the same and completely different all at once.
He took a step forward.
Zia stopped running. She turned her head and locked eyes with him.
And Xavier froze.
Because staring back at him were his own eyes. Not metaphorically. Not imaginatively.
Literally. His.
Hazel, gold-flecked, impossible.
Xavier blinked, rattled. Kara stood, panic coiling in her chest like barbed wire.
He walked toward them, slowly, like approaching something sacred and dangerous.
Zia tilted her head. "Hi."
Xavier knelt before her, stunned. "Hi there. What's your name?"
"Zia," she said proudly.
He glanced at Kara, eyebrows tightening. "She… looks like me."
Kara's voice was taut. "Coincidence."
He stared at her like she'd slapped him. "No."
She grabbed Zia's hand. "We should go."
But Zia tugged her mom's arm. "Mommy, he looks like me!"
Xavier's throat worked. "She called you Mommy?"
Kara stiffened. Too late.
"Yes. She's mine."
He stood. "Kara…"
"Don't," she whispered. "Don't ask. Please."
Xavier searched her face. Confusion. Shock. Pain. He took another step closer.
"Tell me the truth."
"There is no truth you want to hear."
"She's mine."
"You don't remember."
"No, but I know what my eyes look like. And I know how I feel right now."
Kara turned away, holding Zia tighter.
"I need answers."
"You had them once. You burned them."
Silence.
Zia looked between them, frowning. "Do you know my daddy?"
Kara's breath caught. Her eyes met Xavier's. He was still, waiting.
"I did," she said softly. "Once."
He didn't speak. Didn't breathe. But Kara saw the flicker of something in him the start of remembrance. A ghost knocking at the walls of his broken mind.
And she knew everything was about to change.