The snow‑dusted grounds of the lakeside villa lay silent under a pale winter dawn. Inside, the once‑abandoned drawing room felt alive again: soft lamplight danced across the parquet floor, warmed by the glow of screens and the scent of fresh coffee. Evelyn Lin—now Evelyn Larkin—and Lucien Shen sat side by side at the marble table, Mira sleeping in a bassinet nearby. Between them lay a series of high‑capacity data cubes, each containing pivotal moments from their past: the villa’s security logs, Mira’s birth footage, and—the prize—the complete “Memory Matrix Exports.”
Aria Shen entered quietly, carrying mugs of steaming brew. She set one before each of them, offering a small, hopeful smile. “Good morning.”
Lucien reached for his coffee. “Thank you,” he said, voice rough with emotion. “We’ve been up all night.”