They returned to the present—or at least, the version of it that still remained.
The forest near the Heartwind vault was quiet. Too quiet.
No ticking.
No wind.
No clocks.
Evelyne stood beside Jonah, looking up at the sky like she was seeing it for the first time.
"Something's different," she said.
"It is," Thorne answered, adjusting his coat. "You shouldn't be here. But now, you are."
He held up the Timeweft. The woven map of timelines no longer shimmered with hundreds of paths. It had condensed—only a dozen threads now, all twining toward a single point.
Jonah stared at it. "Did I… collapse the loop?"
"No," Thorne said. "You gave it an ending. And endings always come at a cost."
Jonah felt the weight of that. Like something just behind him had disappeared—and he hadn't yet turned to see what it was.
Evelyne looked pale. "I don't remember… everything. Just pieces."
"Memories take time," Thorne said. "Especially borrowed ones."
He paused, glancing toward the treeline.
Then he froze.
"Jonah," he said quietly. "Where's your watch?"
Jonah's hand went to his pocket.
Empty.
His stomach dropped.
"I—I had it when we returned."
"You did return," said a voice from the woods. "But not all of you came back."
A figure stepped into view. Female. Cloaked in a long coat stitched with thin strands of silver thread, eyes glowing faintly like fireflies in reverse.
Thorne went rigid. "A Severant."
Jonah stepped in front of Evelyne. "What's that?"
The woman smiled without warmth.
"We're the other side of the clock. When something changes in time—something impossible—we come to count the cost."
She walked slowly, brushing her fingers over a half-buried gear in the dirt.
"You broke the loop," she said. "Freed a ghost. Anchored a fractured point."
She turned to Jonah.
"That's three violations."
Evelyne stepped forward. "He didn't break time. He fixed it."
"There is no 'fixing,'" the Severant said. "Only shifting. You spared her… but something else will slip in to take her place."
Jonah frowned. "What does that mean?"
The Severant's eyes narrowed.
"You'll see."
She turned to leave, then paused.
"Clockmakers pay in pieces. You're not done paying."
Then—like a reflection in glass—she vanished.
The silence she left behind was colder than before.
Evelyne whispered, "What do we do now?"
Thorne looked at the sky.
"We find the missing tick."
Jonah blinked. "What?"
Thorne turned to him. "The universe keeps perfect time. But when something's changed, it leaves behind a flaw. A single second, lost. Skipped."
He looked back at Jonah.
"And if we don't find that second—whatever replaced it will find us first."
---
Next up: Chapter Thirteen – "The Second That Shouldn't Be."
Jonah, Evelyne, and Thorne begin a race against time itself to locate a missing moment before it becomes something much worse. But the Severants aren't the only ones watching now…