The days that followed blurred into a waking fever dream. The estate stood still, caught between timelines, flickering between what was and what might have been. The sky never fully brightened, nor fully darkened. The sun hovered, hesitant. Time fractured.

Emma and Jack lived minute to minute, breath to breath.

The Watcher’s warning had carved itself into their thoughts. One version must remain. The other forgotten.

But which was the real?

They took to the library again—ancient tomes ...