Mikhail’s breath was unsteady. His mind raced through possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. How was this man here? How could he stand before them, whole, untouched, when they had been so certain he was gone? And worse, why did his words feel like a warning rather than an answer?
Makayla was still rigid beside him, her face unreadable. But Mikhail knew her well enough to see what lay beneath the surface—hesitation, uncertainty, and something that sent a chill through him.
Recognition.
The man had said he wanted them to remember.
Remember what?
Mikhail clenched his fists. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like the way the air felt heavier around them, like they were being pulled into something neither of them understood.
"You’re wasting your time," Mikhail finally said, h
