Amiriah pov
I lay in the void of my darkness dimension, the only place I truly felt safe anymore. Lani slept peacefully on my chest, her small body rising and falling with each breath, her warmth the only thing tethering me to sanity. The darkness swirled around us, protective and familiar, responding to my emotions like a living thing.
I couldn't close my eyes. Every time I did, fear gripped me—irrational yet overwhelming—that if I surrendered to sleep, Lani would somehow disappear from my arms. That I would wake to find her gone, taken from me like everything else I had ever loved.
My fingers absently traced patterns in her curls, so like my own. When had I last slept properly? Not since before the gala. Not since seeing my family again. Now, exhaustion pulled at me, but the terror of nightmares kept me vigilant. I couldn't face those memories again—the hospital, the guards, the experiments. The burning sensation of darkness being forcibly integrated with my very soul.
And beneath those horrors lurked something equally frightening—the feelings that stirred whenever I thought of the name Kai. Who was he? Why did thinking of him fill me with such conflicting emotions—love and betrayal, longing and rage? What if I closed my eyes and remembered him completely? What terrible truth was my mind protecting me from?
Coming back to S City had been a mistake. I had foolishly believed I was strong enough, that enough time had passed. I thought I could control the investigation, reveal myself on my own terms. Instead, I had been drugged, captured, and forced to confront my past before I was ready.
My eyes drifted to Lani's peaceful face. What kind of mother was I becoming? I had promised to protect her, to keep her safe from the darkness of my world. Yet time and again, I put her in danger. The safe house was secure, but for how long? If my family could track me to the café, others could find us too. People who wanted to study my darkness, to use me, to finish what they had started at GreyStone.
Worse, the balance between us had shifted. Lani—my baby, my treasure—had become my protector. I saw it in her eyes when she thought I wasn't looking: worry, fear, a determination too mature for her small years. She comforted me when I cried, reassured me when I panicked. It should be the other way around. I should be her shield, not her burden.
I felt so weak, so broken. Even with Lani in my arms, the darkness inside me whispered seductively of release, of surrender. How easy it would be to just... let go. To allow the shadows to consume me completely, to disappear into their embrace and never return. My family knew now—or at least suspected—what had happened to me at GreyStone. The shame of it burned through me. The pity in their eyes. The horror. I couldn't bear it.
The darkness around us thickened, responding to my despair. For a terrifying moment, I felt it pulling at me, offering oblivion as a mercy.
Then Lani stirred slightly, her small hand curling into the fabric of my shirt, holding on even in sleep.
I gasped, tears spilling from my eyes as I looked down at her. What was I thinking? I couldn't give up. I couldn't let the darkness win—not when this perfect, innocent child depended on me. I couldn't leave her alone in this cruel world, orphaned and vulnerable to the very forces that had nearly destroyed me.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Mama's sorry, treasure."
For the first time in days, I allowed myself to really look at her—to see not just my responsibility, but my miracle. Lani was the light in my darkness, the one pure thing to emerge from all my suffering. She was not my burden; she was my salvation. Without her, I would have surrendered to the shadows long ago.
Perhaps I was broken. Perhaps I would never be fully whole again. But for Lani, I would keep fighting. I would find a way to piece myself back together, to be the mother she deserved.
But how? I couldn't stay hidden in this safe house forever, living in constant fear. I couldn't keep running, never healing, never facing the truth about my past. And I couldn't continue alone—not when the weight of my trauma threatened to crush me each time I lowered my guard.
I needed answers about GreyStone, about Project K, about what had been done to me. I needed to understand who Kai was and why he haunted me. But most of all, I needed to find a way to control the darkness they had put inside me—not just suppress it or hide from it, but truly master it.
For Lani's sake, I had to become stronger than my fear. Stronger than my pain. Stronger than the darkness itself.
As if sensing my resolve, the shadows around us softened, becoming less oppressive. Lani sighed contentedly in her sleep, nestling closer against me. I tightened my arms around her, a new determination forming through the haze of exhaustion and despair.
I would need begin again but not yet I still need time. I would reach out to the one person who might understand, who might help without trying to control me or lock me away again. The one person who, despite everything, might still feel the connection we had once shared.
Lenna. My twin. My other half.
The thought brought fresh anxiety—could I trust her after all this time? After everything that had happened? But deep down, beneath the layers of fear and trauma, I knew I couldn't continue this way. For Lani's sake, I had to try. I had to find a way back from the edge of this abyss before it swallowed me completely.
"I love you," I whispered to my sleeping daughter. "And I promise, I'll find a way to be whole again. For you."
For the first time in days, I allowed my eyes to close, surrendering to the exhaustion that pulled at every fiber of my being. As sleep finally claimed me, I held Lani close, her small heartbeat the rhythm that kept the worst of the nightmares at bay.