The wall-sized monitor in Victor Hale’s private penthouse suite flickered, casting a sickly blue light across the marble room. Five names. Five mothers. Five living children scattered across the globe like secrets buried in shallow graves.

Thirty thousand feet above the freezing Atlantic, Victor’s stealth jet cut through the storm clouds toward the North Sea. Inside the command hub, Evelyn sat with neuro-tech sensors attached to her temples.

"If Vane’s records were correct," Victor explained, standing over the monitors, "you and Isabella share identical quantum-entangled neural signatures. When you touched her at the estate, you created a bio-feedback loop."

"That's why she flinched," Evelyn said. "She felt my memories."

"And you can use that," Thomas added, adjusting the signal amplifier. "If we get you within five hundred meters of the core transmitter, we can broadcast your brainwave frequency. You can send a direct signal into the neural link."

"What kind of signal?" Victor asked, his voice laced with concern. "If the frequency is too high, it could cause permanent brain damage to you—and the children."

"I don't care about the risk to me," Evelyn said fiercely, grabbing Victor’s hand. "Sophie listened to me in that restaurant because she recognized my voice, my heartbeat. Isabella built those children with cold code. But code can be shattered by emotion."

Victor looked at Evelyn, his heart heavy with an emotion he had closed off years ago when his wife allegedly died. He realized then that he had never truly loved Isabella; Isabella was a concept, a cold corporate arrangement. Evelyn was real. Evelyn was the heart of his broken family.