Aiko was back in the Henderson house. The one place that had felt like family… until Jack ruined it all.

  He did this. Not me. I’ll prove it. I swear I will.

  A scream shattered the silence. The walls stretched long, shadows crawling, colors smearing like someone rubbed dirt over her eyes. Her feet made no sound as she crept toward the kitchen.

  Inside, time slowed. Liam stood clutching a shotgun, eyes wide with fear but refusing to back down. Across from him, Jack grinned, sharp teeth glowing in the dim light.

  “Well, well,” Jack’s voice slithered, echoing from everywhere. “If it isn’t our little ninja. Here to watch the show?”

  Aiko opened her mouth—Run, Liam! Please!—but nothing came out. Her throat locked. She couldn’t move.

  Jack yanked the shotgun, slammed it toward Liam’s face. His fist crashed into Liam’s throat. The sound—a wet crunch—rattled through Aiko’s chest.

  No! Not again. Please, not again.

  Liam toppled. His body exploded into feathers, drifting in the air. Only his head remained, staring at her, begging silently. Aiko’s legs refused to work. She couldn’t reach him.

  Jack’s laughter shook the house. “You can’t save him, Aiko. You can’t save anyone. You’re poison. Everything you touch dies.”

  The world twisted. Suddenly she was kneeling next to Liam’s body. His eyes stared blank and glassy at the ceiling. She reached to close them—his head jerked toward her.

  “Why didn’t you help me, Aiko?” The voice came from a bleeding crack in the wall, splitting wider as it spoke.

  “Why did you let me die?”

  Aiko cradled his head, tears pouring down her face. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” The words tumbled out broken and useless. His skin sagged in her hands, rotten, oozing.

  Shapes closed in. The Hendersons. Their faces twisted with grief and blame.

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  Mrs. Henderson’s voice cut sharp as glass. “We took you in, Aiko. Loved you like our own. And this is how you repay us?”

  “I’m sorry!” Aiko sobbed. “I never wanted this! I never meant it!”

  Jack’s booming voice roared from nowhere. “But it happened. Didn’t it? And it’s all your fault. You dragged darkness into their lives.”

  The kitchen shifted again. Mrs. Henderson now held the shotgun. She fired. BOOM. Jack’s body ripped apart in slow motion, blood painting the walls like a nightmare mural.

  Jack’s whisper coiled inside Aiko’s ear: “See what you’ve done? You turned a loving mother into a killer. How does it feel to break everything you touch?”

  Aiko dropped to her knees. The room spun, colors blurring. Liam’s choking gasps, Mrs. Henderson’s screams, Emma’s sobs—all twisted together into one horrible noise.

  “Stop!” Aiko screamed, grabbing her head. “Please, just stop!”

  Darkness. A single spotlight pinned her in place. Faces floated from the shadows—her mom, broken and bloody. Liam, eyes dull and accusing.

  Jack’s voice slithered inside her skull. “This is your legacy. You can’t escape it. You’re death, Aiko. Destruction. Accept it.”

  Aiko curled up, shaking. “No,” she whimpered. “That’s not me. I won’t let you win.”

  Then—a hand touched her shoulder. Warm. She looked up. Her mother stood there, whole and glowing.

  “My brave Aiko,” she whispered. “You’re stronger than you know. Don’t let the darkness take you.”

  Aiko gasped awake, heart racing, hair plastered to her face with sweat. The bars, the shadows, the cold cell—real again. But Jack’s voice clung to her ears. Liam’s eyes still burned in her mind.

  “I’m sorry, Liam,” she whispered into the dark. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.”

  She pulled her knees close, she curled up into a ball. Breathe. Just breathe. Uncle’s lessons echoed in her head—calm, focus, strength.

  Her eyes caught a flicker of movement in the corner. A tiny spider spun its web, thread by thread.

  Aiko stared, transfixed. Even here, in this rotten place, the spider didn’t give up. It kept building.

  “If you can do it,” she whispered, “then so can I.”

  She wiped her eyes. I won’t give up. Not on Liam. Not on the Hendersons. Not on Mom’s work.

  She thought of late nights watching her mother scribble numbers on scraps of paper, muttering about “quantum something.” Once, Aiko had overheard her say entanglement. Back then, it sounded like gibberish. Now, maybe it was the key.

  If Malcolm wanted it so bad, it had to matter. Maybe she could figure it out. Maybe it could save her.

  She lay back on her cot, exhausted but sharper inside.

  “I’ll solve it,” she whispered. “I’ll make things right. No matter what.”

  Sleep pulled her under again, gentler this time.

  The Next Morning

  Keys rattled. The cell door groaned open. A guard’s shadow fell across her.

  “On your feet, inmate. You’ve got a visitor.”

  Aiko’s stomach lurched. Malcolm again? Or… someone else? She forced herself up, every muscle tense.

  The guard marched her through sterile halls into a small, bare room.