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Early morning.
Sunlight streamed through the window, spilling warmth across the room.
The air carried that dry, sun-baked quality, along with a faint, barely perceptible fragrance that lingered throughout the space.
Amy Chloe's eyelashes fluttered—the first signs of waking.
After a moment.
Amy slowly opened her eyes.
She felt like she'd been dreaming.
In the dream—
She couldn't remember what had happened. All she recalled was the moment before her heart gave out, right as she was about to lose consciousness—someone had caught her.
She hadn't seen their face.
But...
Something about their presence felt familiar. Like a connection running through her blood.
Amy pondered this while bracing her arm against the mattress, trying to sit up.
Wait.
The instant she pushed herself upright, realization struck. She felt her heart beating steadily in her chest, then looked down at her arms.
"This..."
"My arms..."
Amy's eyes went wide. Gone were the emaciated limbs where bone showed through paper-thin skin. In their place—healthy, fair arms with actual flesh on them. Instinctively, her hand flew to her face.
The next second.
Shock flooded her features. She scrambled out of bed, rushed past the crib positioned nearby, and darted into the master bathroom.
She flipped on the light and stared at her reflection.
Lustrous golden hair.
Eyes no longer sunken in hollow sockets.
Cheeks with actual fullness to them.
Amy was stunned.
She gazed at her reflection, hands roaming over her face in disbelief. The woman in the mirror mimicked every movement.
Hss!
Amy drew in a sharp breath.
The next second.
Something clicked. Her entire body went rigid, frozen in place. Then, eyes still wide, she turned slowly and walked out of the bathroom toward the crib by the wall.
This was...
Amy's right hand traced a mark on the crib—worn smooth by years of time—then surveyed the bedroom's layout.
Now she understood why everything had felt strangely familiar.
Because—
This bedroom's arrangement wasn't identical to the one she'd once owned. But the similarity had to be at least ninety percent.
Not that it could be perfect.
Hawk wasn't a god.
There was no way he could track down every piece of furniture from a home that existed over twenty years ago.
The Reality Stone might have made it possible.
But that seemed like overkill.
After a while.
The bedroom door on the second floor opened.
Amy—wearing clothes she distinctly remembered leaving in her old apartment, yet somehow found here in the closet—crept cautiously out of the room.
In an instant.
She felt like she was seeing ghosts of the home she and Andrew had once shared, however briefly.
It wasn't just the photographs lining the hallway walls.
Or the wallpaper.
Amy moved in a daze, fingertips brushing the wallpaper as she gripped the banister and descended to the first floor.
The layout downstairs felt equally familiar.
But Amy didn't dwell on it. Instead, she hurried to the kitchen counter, where a row of photo frames stood in neat arrangement. When she saw the photographs inside, she let out a breath of relief.
The next second.
Her gaze landed on a document sitting in front of her family portrait—and the car key resting on top of it.
Amy frowned, set the key aside, and opened the folder to examine the papers within.
This wasn't just any document.
It was a property deed.
"State of New Jersey. Jersey City. Westview. 132 Westview Lane."
"Property Owners—"
"Andrew Chloe. Amy Chloe."
"Mmph!"
Seeing her husband's name on the deed, Amy's heart lurched. Her right hand flew to cover her mouth, but she couldn't stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks.
Just then.
Sounds drifted in from somewhere nearby—the house next door, perhaps—reaching her ears.
A woman's voice.
"Jean, don't run over there. The paint isn't dry yet."
"Okay, Mommy."
"Billy, don't crawl off the grass. Stay on the lawn with your brother."
"..."
Amy heard the voices outside and hastily wiped her damp eyes. She replaced the documents, then headed for the front door.
She still didn't understand what had happened.
She'd passed out in New York City. How had she ended up in Jersey City? And that property deed with her husband's name on it...
What was going on?
Amy's mind overflowed with questions.
She pushed open the door.
A pristine street greeted her. Clean houses. And—
A woman who looked to be in her early twenties, with long crimson hair, standing at the edge of a lawn to her right. Arms crossed, wearing a smile that felt achingly familiar.
The smile was familiar because Amy had once worn it herself.
It was a mother's smile.
Amy gathered herself, walked over, and spotted what appeared to be a newly constructed playground—along with a little girl flitting about like a butterfly, playing everywhere at once.
And...
Two little boys crawling all over a patch of artificial turf right in front of her.
For some reason.
Watching those two toddlers scramble across the grass, Amy felt her heart skip. A strange sense of déjà vu washed over her.
She glanced instinctively at Wanda.
But just as Amy was about to speak, Wanda noticed Billy making another mischievous attempt to escape the grass boundary. Her brow arched.
She was annoyed.
"Billy Chloe. Stay on the grass."
"..."
Chloe?
Amy had been about to greet Wanda, but the stern tone made her pause. Her gaze dropped automatically to Billy—now obediently retreating back onto the artificial turf after his mother's scolding.
And then—
It hit her. The reason Billy and Tommy felt so familiar.
Because through Billy's little face, Amy could see echoes of another face—one she'd once held in her own arms.
A face she would never forget as long as she lived.
Just then.
Wanda walked over to Billy and scooped him up—he was clearly the more mischievous of the twins. Then she turned to face Amy, whose expression had frozen in shock.
Amy met Wanda's gaze, eyes fixed on Billy in her arms. Something flickered in the depths of her pupils.
Their eyes locked.
Amy's voice trembled as she looked at Wanda, her gaze never leaving Billy.
"Is this..."
"Yes."
Wanda didn't draw it out. She smiled warmly. "Billy Chloe. He's your grandson."
Amy's hands flew to cover her mouth.
Tears streamed down her face, beyond her control.
Wanda's smile remained gentle as she extended the squirming Billy toward Amy. "Billy, meet your grandmother—Amy Chloe."
Amy frantically lowered her hands and reached out, taking Billy from Wanda's arms.
Strange as it seemed—
Billy, who'd been restless in Wanda's hold, calmed down the instant Amy held him.
Amy gazed at the child in her arms, then looked up as Wanda lifted the other toddler.
Wanda cradled Tommy.
"This is Tommy. He and Billy are twins. Billy's the older brother, Tommy's the younger."
"He's also your grandson."
"And you have a granddaughter too."
"Her name is—"
"I'm Jean!"
A little girl came whooshing down the slide and darted over to Wanda's side. Holding her mother's hand with one hand, she looked up at Amy—who still held Billy—and introduced herself with a radiant smile.
"Jean Chloe!"
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Back at 521A Palm Street, Gwen examined the three new documents that had fallen out of a torn envelope. She looked up at Hawk descending the stairs.
"The little ones' papers arrived."
Hawk paused, glancing at the three federal documents fanned out in Gwen's hands.
"Why were they sent here? Shouldn't they have gone straight to Westview?"
"No idea."
Gwen shook her head and pulled out her phone to call Sharon.
A short while later.
Gwen hung up after Sharon's callback and looked at Hawk, who sat on a bar stool across from her, drinking coffee. She laughed softly.
"Someone new in the mailroom mixed them up."
"...Alright then."
Hawk accepted the explanation, set down his coffee cup, and examined the three authentic federal documents laid out beside him.
Jean Chloe.
Billy Chloe and Tommy Chloe.
After returning from Kamar-Taj, Hawk had received identity documents for the three children from Sharon.
Back then, their surname had been Phoenix.
Clearly, Gwen had been generous about it. In her words, whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not, those three really were his descendants by blood.
So they should carry Hawk's surname.
But...
Phoenix wasn't just any surname. It was a name Gwen had chosen herself.
It was their shared surname.
So...
Right around that time, Hawk had contracted his timeline and discovered his origins.
Phoenix was his surname.
Chloe was also his surname.
Hawk had asked Sharon to update the children's documents with the new surname. And it was while arranging those papers that he'd figured out where to settle Amy Chloe.
Gwen watched Hawk from her seat at the counter and took a sip of coffee. "By the way, Mrs. Chloe should be waking up today, right?"
Hawk set the three documents aside.
"Yeah."
"You sure you don't want to go meet her?"
"No need."
Hawk shook his head, meeting Gwen's gaze. He smiled.
"Phoenix stays Phoenix. Chloe stays Chloe."
Yes.
That was the best solution Hawk could come up with.
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