Selene said nothing.
She couldn’t.
Her hand hung there, frozen, the phone screen still lit staring back at her with a face that looked too much like her own. Same scar. Same eyes. Same everything. Except… colder. Smiling in a way she never had. Smiling like she’d already won.
It was impossible.
Except it wasn’t.
Vincent’s voice broke through the silence behind her. “Selene.”
She didn’t turn.
He stepped closer. “I got your signal. Are you?”
She held the phone up without looking at him.
He saw it.
His entire body stilled.
“Is that AI? Deepfake?”
“No,” Selene whispered.
“Then who the f**k?”
She lowered the phone, slowly, like setting down a bomb.
“She has my daughter,” Selene said.
Vincent’s jaw tightened. “We need to trace that video. Now.”
“I’ve already sent it to Gianna,”
