The pen trembled in my hand.
A single signature. That's what they said it would take to know everything. The masked man leaned closer, the glint in his eye suggesting this wasn't just a formality — it was a trap.
"What exactly am I signing away?" I asked, voice steady despite the storm inside me.
"You'll be signing into protection," he said smoothly. "Into truth. Into blood."
"That doesn't sound like a rescue mission."
"It's not."
Riven's voice sliced through the tension. He stood beside me now, arms crossed tightly, his eyes fixed on the contract.
"You want us to sign over our lives," he said, his tone like ice. "That's what this is, isn't it? You don't want the truth. You want control."
The man's smile widened behind the mask. "Isn't that what truth really is? Control over what people believe?"
I looked down at the paper. My name was already typed on the bottom line, waiting. How did they know I'd come this far?
My head was spinning. Every instinct told me to run — but my heart whispered Ryker's name.
What if this was the only way to save him?
I met Riven's gaze. His fingers brushed mine beneath the table, a silent question.
I didn't answer — not with words. But I dropped the pen.
"I'm not signing anything," I said.
The mood in the room shifted instantly. The second masked figure stepped forward, his gloved hand reaching inside his jacket.
Riven moved fast, grabbing the laptop and pulling me behind him.
"I suggest you don't make this harder than it needs to be," the first man said, his voice sharp now, stripped of that silky calm.
"And I suggest you get out of our way," Riven snapped back. "Unless you want this broadcasted."
He held up the laptop. On the screen, a live feed blinked. Riven must have activated the hidden camera — it was streaming directly to a cloud drive.
"You think we didn't prepare for this?" he said.
I couldn't help but smile. Even in chaos, he was one step ahead.
The men hesitated.
For a few precious seconds, no one moved. Then —
A flash.
A sound like a pop.
The lights flickered.
And they were gone.
Just like that.
---
We locked the cabin and stayed silent for an hour, barely breathing.
When I finally spoke, my voice felt foreign in the heavy air. "Why did they call me a sister?"
Riven stared at the laptop screen, replaying the footage over and over. "They know something about your past. About both of ours. I think they knew we'd find this place eventually."
"Do you think it's true?"
He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he pulled out a worn envelope from the inside of his jacket — something he'd kept hidden even from me.
"What's that?" I asked.
"My mother gave it to me before she died," he said softly. "Told me not to open it unless I had nowhere else to turn."
My breath caught. "And now?"
He looked at me, eyes haunted. "Now we're cornered."
With careful hands, he tore the envelope open.
Inside was a faded photograph — a woman holding two babies. They looked identical, wrapped in blue and pink blankets.
Riven stared at it like he was seeing a ghost. "That's not my mom."
"But that's you," I whispered, pointing at the baby in blue.
He nodded slowly.
"And the other one…"
A girl.
Same eyes. Same chin. Same mark beneath the left ear.
A mark I'd always hidden with my hair.
My heart stopped.
"That's me."
---
I couldn't breathe. My skin prickled as everything started spinning out of control.
Siblings. Twins.
My entire life — a lie?
I backed away, shaking my head. "No. No. My parents… they would've told me. They would've said something."
Riven came toward me, his expression gentle but overwhelmed. "They might not have known, Elara."
"You're saying we were… separated at birth?"
"Stolen," he corrected. "Split up. For reasons someone went to incredible lengths to hide."
I sank into the nearest chair, the weight of the photograph pressing on my chest. Every memory I had of my childhood felt suddenly… suspicious. All the times my mother looked too tired, too sad. The papers I wasn't allowed to see. The way my father avoided questions about when I was born.
Tears blurred my vision.
"Then who are we, really?" I whispered.
Riven knelt beside me. "We're going to find out. Together."
A faint ding echoed from the laptop.
A message appeared on screen — from Ryker's old encrypted account.
> "They're lying to you both. I'm still alive. Come alone. 11th Street. Midnight."
I gasped.
Riven's eyes narrowed. "It's a trap."
I nodded. "But if Ryker sent that… we don't have a choice."
---
Midnight.
11th Street.
The place Ryker had vanished — the alley behind an abandoned art gallery.
We arrived in silence, footsteps echoing too loudly.
A shadow moved.
And a voice — low, desperate — called out, "Elara?"
I turned toward it, heart in my throat.
"Ryker?!"
Then — a scream.
A crash.
A flash of red light.
And the world shattered again.