Finn stood in the doorway, hand still on the frame, and stared at the woman who wasn't who she claimed to be.
Not because she looked wrong. She looked exactly as Lucian had described. Silver hair. Violet eyes. The same steady posture, the same quiet intensity. But something was off. Something he couldn't name.
"You're not Evelyn," he said.
The woman smiled. It wasn't a warm smile. It was the smile of someone who'd been waiting a long time for this conversation.
"Perceptive. That's good. You'll need it."
"Who are you?"
"I'm a copy. A clone. A fragment." She walked toward him, her movements fluid, unhurried. "The original Evelyn is elsewhere. I'm what she left behind when she was taken. A piece of her consciousness, given form. Given purpose."
Finn didn't move. "What purpose?"
"To get Lucian here. To warn him." Her smile faded. "But he sent you instead. Which means either he doesn't trust me, or he's afraid of what he'll find."
"He's afraid of you not remembering him."
