Page 107 of Hidden Echoes

My stomach turns.

"Does she… know how to defend herself?" I ask, keeping my voice neutral.

Audrey gives me a suspicious look. "You know. Very well, in fact. But you can't tell Zane about that, he gets all tense when it comes to that. And I can neither confirm nor deny that she could throw a knife with the same accuracy as Seth, and that's saying something."

“You really like this girl.”

“Yes! You would too if you met her. Look how cute.”

Audrey flashes her phone at me with that grin, the one she wears when she’s practically bursting with excitement, and I take it without a second thought.

My fingers graze the screen, and I immediately scan the photo, but my focus isn't on the typical 'cute' reaction Audrey’s expecting.

It’s on her. My sister.

Mia’s standing in the middle of a chaotic Tokyo street, the neon lights flickering behind her like a painted blur. It’s surreal, almost dreamlike.

Her hair is a strange, chaotic mix of black and white streaks. She’s holding a stuffed panda in her arms—huge, almost absurdly so, practically the size of her body. Her hands cling to its fluffy ears like she’s worried it might slip away.

I hand the phone back to Audrey, my mind still running a thousand miles per hour. The smile on Audrey’s face doesn’t quite reach my own, though.

"See? Cute, right?"

This is no coincidence.

My heart hammers in my chest as her words echo in my head.

Mia.

The girl I helped escape.

My sister.

And now she's alive. Married—to Kyle's brother.

The world is too small.

Before I can decide what to do, the door opens and Pietro walks in, holding Eleonora in his arms, shopping bags hanging over his arm. “Little one,” he greets me, ever so serious. Eleonora is snuggled against his chest, playing with the collar of his shirt.

Audrey blinks a few times and suddenly lets out a sigh, grabbing her phone. "Oh, shit. I have to go. Seth is going to worry if I don't answer soon."

And by worried, she means he’ll march in here like the reckless hurricane of impulse and defiance that he is—volatile, and entirely unbothered by the consequences he'll leave in his wake.

She's already walking away before I can say anything, which is good because my mind is still trying to process everything.

“Hi.”

Pietro notices the change in my tone before I even finish my sentence. His sharp eyes analyze me, his posture becoming even more rigid, as if he is already anticipating a battle.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, his voice deep and controlled, but with that hidden concern that few know.

My throat feels dry, but I say it anyway:

"I want to tell Seth the truth."

The silence between us is immediate.

Pietro doesn't react immediately, but I see the tension growing in his shoulders.

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