The rain hit the tarmac in angry sheets, drumming against the sleek body of the private jet like war drums.
Alina stood beneath the hangar roof, Lily in her arms, watching the engines roar to life. Her daughter was asleep, her face nestled against Alina's shoulder—peaceful, unaware that the life she knew was about to end.
Behind her, Leonard was giving final instructions to the pilot. Rafe paced nearby, a hand permanently pressed to his earpiece.
"Interpol just flagged your last name," Rafe said quietly, eyes scanning the perimeter. "We'll need to burn your IDs and use the Greystone aliases from now on."
Alina nodded. "What about the vault? Have they found anything else?"
Rafe's jaw tightened. "Someone leaked Elara's research files this morning. Redacted, but enough to confirm the existence of Project Sanctum. The news is calling it the clone war that never happened."
Alina clenched her jaw. That wasn't even half the truth.
"Once we're airborne," Leonard said, joining her, "we go dark. New names. New identities. The safehouse in Denmark is remote enough. No digital footprint. No satellite eyes. Just silence."
"And snow," Alina added softly.
Leonard gave a faint smile. "Lily always wanted to see snow."
As they boarded, Alina paused at the stairs, glancing once more at the city skyline. Her old life—the fame, the money, the gala dresses and press headlines—it felt like a dream she barely remembered.
She turned away.
That chapter was closed.
The safehouse was nestled in the heart of a Danish forest, two hours from the nearest town and cloaked by endless pines. A former NATO bunker, now retrofitted into a minimalist hideaway, it was cold, quiet, and secure.
Perfect.
Lily ran through the living room barefoot, chasing after Baxter, her laughter echoing off the steel-reinforced walls.
Alina watched from the kitchen, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea. The silence of the forest outside was eerie but oddly comforting.
Leonard approached, a blanket draped over his shoulders. "Rafe checked in. All traces of us are gone. Facial data scrubbed. Bank accounts emptied. We're ghosts."
"And Elara?" Alina asked, unable to stop herself.
Leonard hesitated. "No confirmed sighting. But someone's uploading fragments of her journal to the dark web. In Latin."
Alina's heart skipped. "She's alive."
"Maybe. Or someone wants us to believe she is."
She looked toward Lily again. "If she comes back… she'll come for Lily."
Leonard didn't disagree.
Later that night, as snow blanketed the ground outside, Alina sat by the window, watching the flakes drift. The safehouse was warm, the fire crackling behind her. Yet the storm inside her hadn't stilled.
Leonard appeared with a worn notebook—her old journal from her biotech days.
"I found this in the vault's recovery logs," he said. "You kept it… even then."
She took it, fingers grazing the leather cover. "It's the only thing that felt like mine back then. Before the contracts. Before Elara."
She flipped through it. Diagrams. Hypotheses. Hope.
"You really believed in Project Sanctum," he said softly.
"I believed in a better world," she whispered. "One where we fixed the damage—not played gods."
"And Elara?"
"She wanted to replace the world."
Leonard crouched beside her, voice low. "Do you think Lily feels it? That she's different?"
Alina looked over to where her daughter slept on the couch, curled like a kitten under a blanket.
"She doesn't know yet. But she will. And when that day comes… I need her to trust herself more than any truth they throw at her."
Leonard touched her hand. "She has your heart."
"And your fire."
Outside, the snow fell heavier.
Two weeks passed.
Lily learned to make snow angels. She named every bird outside the window. She cried once when Baxter disappeared for an hour, then squealed when he returned with a stick larger than his head.
For a moment, the world felt still.
Until the satellite phone rang.
Leonard answered, frowning immediately. "Rafe?"
Alina stood from the dining table, sensing the shift in his posture.
"What is it?" she asked.
Leonard's expression was grim. "Elara's voice. On a pirate broadcast."
Alina felt her stomach twist.
He pressed play.
"To the world that tried to bury me—I am not your mistake. I am your mirror. And the girl you fear? She is not the monster. You are."
It wasn't a message.
It was a war declaration.
"She's baiting us," Leonard said. "Broadcast originated from northern Russia. Completely unsecured."
"She wants me to come," Alina said. "She's done hiding."
Leonard looked at her. "It could be a trap."
"She's making it one."
That night, Alina stood at Lily's bedside. Her daughter was fast asleep, arms wrapped around her stuffed fox.
Leonard came in quietly. "We don't have to go."
"She won't stop until she has Lily," Alina said. "And even if we hide forever, someone else will come. Another government. Another fanatic. She'll never be safe."
Leonard was silent for a long time. "Then we do this on our terms."
She nodded.
"We find Elara. We end this."