Elena’s POV

The photograph wouldn’t let me look away.

Margaret Carter sat in a sunlit living room that looked almost gentle, almost ordinary. Untouched tea on the table in front of her. Soft curtains half-drawn.

Her expression was calm, as if she had simply paused mid-thought and someone had stolen the moment before she could finish it. Under the image, the message was short and surgical.

You got Elena back. Now let’s see how quickly you can save your own family.

Nikolai’s hand tightened around the phone until the knuckles went white. He didn’t speak at first. He only stared at his mother’s face like the screen might rewrite itself...