Don't give up, Cordy!!
[Atlas}Jude raises his hands above his head, placing them in clear view but my eyes aren't there.My eyes are on the water next to the boat. A series of ripples set my heart on edge. "Cordelia," I gasp. I don't think. I don't feel. I just act. Stripping off my coat and shoes I dive off the ship so close to Jude's boat that the wake almost tips him over. The water is murky and dark and it is impossible to see anything. My lungs burning with the effort I refuse to quit. I will not let my wife die because another selfish megalomaniac interferes in our life for their own benefit. The weight of the water above me is pushing down and I wonder if I will drown trying to find her.But then I see it, a flash of light off of one of her emerald rings as she struggles against the bindings at her wrists in a fruitless attempt at swimming. Following the light flicker of movement I kick even harder, struggling to reach her before she's too deep for me to get us to the surface in time.How long is
[Tilly]Clark carried me as far as he could until his knees buckled under my weight. With all of the weight I gained with these babies, I'm almost twice my original pre-pregnancy weight, and even though Clark works hard on his body every day, his strength has its limits. Especially when he's scared, and right now he's terrified. "I should have never convinced you to come with me," the veins in his neck are bulging with strain as he takes a few more stuttering steps forward. "You should be in the hospital. This is no hospital." Lifting a hand to his face I try to soothe his wrinkled brow. My hand leaves a red trail and I try not to show panic at the sight of my blood on his cheek. "The doctor will help us. Don't worry.""Yes, the doctor will make this all better," his smile is tight. "And I'll stay with you the whole time. It's you and me and babies make four.I know he's trying his best to keep his cool, to let me know that I'm loved and that everything will be all right, that our b
[Cordelia]My eyes fly open, but the room is a blur of color and light. Moaning, I move my head from side to side. A nearby nurse places a cool cloth on my head."Give her another sedative," someone murmurs nearby. "She shouldn't see this."See what? What don't they want me to see?On the other side of the room, there are screaming voices, one male, and one female filling the space with a cacophony of misery, accompanied by the shrill sound of beeping monitors. "None of them! Do you hear me?" The booming male voice shouts. "None of them die! You save them all goddamn it or I will have your medical license. You hear me! You'll never practice medicine again!" "Calm down!" An authoritative female voice responds. "We'll do our best, Mr. Steele," she tries to whisper this next part but I can still hear it. "But if it comes to choosing, who should we prioritize? What would your wife want?""To become my wife," he blurts out. "We never got a chance to get married. And now you're going to sa
[Cordelia]A small cry shatters the sorrow. Clark perks up, his whole body coming to attention. "Madeline," he turns his body away from me, like a flower seeking the sun, towards a small glass bed where two wiggling, swaddled bundles are curled up next to one another, one of them fussing more than the other. He picks her up and begins singing a sorrowful melody, something nonsensical that I'm confident he must be making up on the spot. The little spot of hair I see plastered to the side of her head is ink-black and curly. As soon as he picks up one the other starts to cry and soon he has a little red head in his other hand. "Cassandra, don't be jealous," he sniffles, smiling brightly through his tears for his daughters. "Papa has two arms." He bounces them up and down. I wish I could laugh at the tender scene, but my heart hurts as I look over and see the figure on the bed. She almost looks like she's a sleeping princess. Except that she's impossibly pale as if her skin has been was
[Atlas]I try not to think about how I just left my wife in the hands of others while I chased down the madman who had promised to help her. I'm praying that at least one of the people left on the beach has some medical training. I didn't have time to ask them what they'd do if Jude didn't help because I never thought it would get this far. I expected to catch him before he breached the treeline.But now that I am chasing him, I think back to some of the conversations Cordelia has had about our time apart. She had said something about how she and Jude used to run together sometimes, and how he used to slow himself down so that she could keep up. Cordelia is an excellent runner. She's always been in top shape. But Jude is faster. Much faster. I'm fit, but I'm not a runner. It doesn't take long for Jude to outpace me, leaving me tired and gasping for air. I push a little harder, fueled by adrenaline and the need to save my wife.But Jude's always just out of reach until eventually he
[Atlas]"What are you talking about?" I demand. "My mother has been dead for decades, Jude. Keep her name, and her memory, out of your mouth."Doesn't he realize how close he is to becoming a body left on the beach? He's already pushed his luck beyond most of our limits. "Oh, but she's still here. She's everywhere. Her family built this place.""Her family?" I ask but he doesn't respond.Jude is standing on the other side of the room next to a large bookcase that curves along the wall and reaches up several rows to the ceiling. He sets the book he is reading back on the shelf and without looking up grabs another."This system is archaic but complete. I do appreciate the craftsmanship," he continues to look through the collection without looking up. "Keeping notes by hand with this much detail and skill is a dying art.""Why are we here?" I demand. This feels like a dangerous waste of time. "What was so important about this place that you'd drag me out here instead of just helping
[Atlas]When I open my eyes, it is completely dark. I am damp and my back is sore, as if someone had dragged me over rocks and sand. Feeling the back of my head, I surmise that is exactly what happened while I was asleep. "I'm sorry I had to do that," the voice of the woman from the lab speaks to me from the darkness above my head. I can barely make out her silhouette and the features of her face are obscured. "But I couldn't have you hurting him. He's far too useful." Groaning I close my eyes."Do you have a headache?" she inquires. I want to ask her to stop talking, but my mouth isn't working correctly. It's numb and as I sit there open-mouthed, I am unable to close it. "Poor dear. I'm sorry about that. Your eyesight should also return soon. That vaccine always had a few...quirks." Blinking, her face is slowly becoming clear. Her voice is familiar, but I can't quite place it. I feel like it's something from a faded dream. Half of it is covered by a gauzy scarf that is just thick
[Cordelia]I didn't wake up again for another three days. It might as well have been three years. Even though my body was starting to feel more like myself, nothing else about my world felt the same anymore. Not just because Tilly is still lying in a bed unmoving, but because of the presence of another person who claims to be someone impossible. She says her name is Susanna. Susanna Steele. "But how can this be possible," I ask my husband. "Didn't she die? Didn't they find her body?""I thought they had, but she wouldn't have been the first Steele to fake her death," he smirked and I know he's thinking about his situation from a few months back. Whoever she is, whether she's telling the truth or some very creative fiction, I have much to be grateful for, apparently because of her. When she saw the burns left behind by the sun's rays and the damage from the salty sea, she developed a salve and had it processed in her lab before we unmoored and left the island. My skin is miraculousl
[Cordelia] Today is our 20th second anniversary. We've lost count of the first one, forgetting it entirely as a moment of sadness. Instead, we honor the day when we took our vows and meant them, 7 years later in Napa. Usually, we leave Los Angeles and take the week for just the two of us. Even after two decades, we haven't lost our hunger for one another and I look forward to our time away where we can just be two people together and in love. But this year, my husband is feeling a bit nostalgic. This is why I'm in the lobby of the Steele Hotel and Resort, recreating a memory I wish I could forget. When he sent me the cryptic text this afternoon, I confess I was more than a little bit confused. Why, of all places, would he want me to meet him there? At least this time I'm not wearing a hoodie with a dress tucked into a pair of loose sweats. And while my face is covered with large sunglasses, it's more to protect my identity and not draw too much attention. I am far too recogniza
[Clark] "Come on. Dad!" My daughters pull me along by my arms. I've never been able to deny them anything they wanted but tonight they are asking too much. "It's only a blind date!" "Girls," I admonish, "What have I said, I'm not ready to let someone new into my heart. Your mother was more than enough for me." Cassie stares up at me with her starlight eyes, as deep and black as her mother's, and doesn't relent. "You promised you'd let us have anything we want for our birthday. Grandma helped us pick her out. You have to try, Dad. For us!" "Grandma Suzanna or Grandma Jenny?" I grump, "Who do I need to send a thank you note." "Both!" the girls giggle. "You owe us, Dad," Cassie counters. Her red curls bounce as she stomps her foot. "Do you know how weird it is to look on a DATING AP for potential girlfriends for our father? It's so gross. You should be grateful" "Yeah," Maddie chimes in, swinging her hair over her shoulder as she twists her lips just like Tilly used to, her hand
[Jude]If the universe were fair, I wouldn't have lived to see today. If karma took her toll, I wouldn't be friends with Clark and Atlas Steele, our children growing up side by side. Once the shadow of Magnus was lifted from our shoulders, and Angelica and I were finally able to go about our lives the way we always should have been able to do, It became easier to make good with my life. Angelica and I were married shortly after Mathilda's funeral. It was a small ceremony on the family medical boat, just before the two of us set sail with our daughters, Melanie and Veronica. When the DNA showed that they were indeed my children, and NOT Magnus', that his experiment had never stuck, it was easy to adopt them. In their mind, Angelica is their mother. When they are old enough, we'll tell them the truth about Aunt Sydney, but for now, we are sparing them the burden of her insanity.And we give them love, all the love of a couple who has always wanted children of their own.Angelica, it tu
[Cordelia]15 hours later I place my feet back in LA for the first time in 6 months. We have been gone for so long that I had forgotten how loud it is, or how oppressively hot it can be in summer. Clark met us at the runway alone, the girls with their grandparents. "I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to drive you home. We could have sent a driver but," he explains, "I wanted to be the one to welcome you home." He does his best to smile, but as his melancholy grin drifts to how I hold on to my husband's hand, I can see how much this is costing him. "I'm glad it was you," I reach forward to give him a hug. "Thank you." Atlas, who has been receiving a slew of messages from Theo as soon as we landed, asks to be dropped off at the new Steele Industries building. "Looks like they need me," he apologizes, kissing my hand. "I'll make it up to you tonight," he whispers in my ear and I shiver in anticipation. "I'm going to hold you to that," I whisper discretely in his ear, trying to be mi
[Cordelia]The rest of that day went by in a blur. I insisted we rush back to the compound even though everyone had received the news that Tilly was gone. I couldn't believe it. My mind couldn't process the possibility of a world without Mathilda Madison. She wasn't just my best friend, she was my sister. So I couldn't let her go. Clark was distraught. He and Tilly took a while to find one another, and when they did finally make the right connection, they fell for one another hard. It was beautiful watching my two best friends fall in love--they were perfect for one another. But not all stories end with a happily ever after. That was a hard lesson for me to learn as well. I wanted nothing more than to watch Tilly raise her daughters. When we made it back an hour later, her body had already been collected. I had wanted to see her, to give it a chance to see if I could have brought her back: just one touch, one spark. I was convinced that I could have been the one to save her. The
[Sydney]Why can't they just let me die? It would be so easy, I'm already cut and bleeding. Why bother with the IVs and the monitors? It doesn't matter anymore. Did it ever matter?My entire existence has been a fraud. If my hands were free I'd count the ways on my fingertips all the ways I've been lied to and used.A madman altered my DNA and injected me into the wrong mother. I was raised believing I was special only to discover I was the offspring of my enemy. The man of my dreams was married to the daughter my mother was supposed to have, and I was just a cheap copy of the woman he once loved, my genetic twin, Angelica. Was this life ever really mine to begin with? Even now they aren't honoring my desire to die. "She needs more blood," the doctor announces over my head, her clear voice cutting through the din of the operating room chatter. "Her blood pressure has dropped to dangerous levels. We can't use the anesthesia. She'll need to be awake for the procedure."Procedure?"I d
[Clark]The dissection of Magnus' brain was one of the most intensely fascinating and uniquely horrifying things I have ever experienced. Using my computer to guide the charge, we attached wires to his brain, fed through a divide that my mother had retrieved from her vault. "This will disrupt his signal. It will keep him from making a full memory transfer. Hopefully whomever he's jumped into will have a fighting chance." Everything my mother has said since I volunteered for this task has sounded like something from a science fiction movie. The duplicates we had seen in Delilah's footage of her father's secret lab were all designed to hold Magnus's memories in an artificial extension of his life. Not all of them looked like his current body, as often it was useful for him to become someone entirely different for spying purposes. "Is this how he always seemed to know everything?" I ask aloud. We had wondered how he managed to get around all of our codes, to find ways to learn about wh
[Cordelia]"Wally?" Holding my hand above his head, I pause, hesitating. Just a moment before I was about to take this man's life without even the smallest shred of remorse. It was necessary to protect my family. My children and my husband. "Cordelia," He blinks, his eyes roving my face and the surroundings like a caged animal. Licking his dry, salty lips, his body is otherwise completely still. "I don't have much time. He's fighting me...I..."Wally's muscles spasm, shaking Atlas as well as he holds him in place. Closing his eyes, his body stills, as if the effort of keeping still is so great that he cannot do anything else at the same time. He whispers something that I can't quite make out, so I lean in, trying to capture his words.As my hair brushes his cheek, he repeats himself. "You need to end this, Cordelia. Don't let him escape to harm another. His other mind is gone, Suzanna saw to it, but he can still jump to someone else.""Wally, what are you saying," I shake my head. "No
[Cordelia]Atlas and I raced down the hall to the exit, soldiers moving out of our way as we passed, nobody bothering to stop us as my husband's icy glare and dominant aura kept them pinned in place. Magnus is dead and I have never been more terrified in my life. The door to the outside pushes open and we are instantly blinded by the overhead sunshine that covers the beach with an oddly bright gray that stings the eyes. It is warmer than it had been earlier, the wind having died down, trapping the moisture of impending rain, held in place by the gathering storm. "Jasper," I call out gently, scanning the beach. "Wally?""Atlas do you see Jasper?" I grab my husband's arm. His pulse is rapid beneath my fingertips as we move forward as one and find the abandoned picnic blanket and Jasper's little galoshes next to a much larger pair. "Wally!" I scream out towards the waves and find him standing in the water, at the far edge of the beach. There is no sign of my son. None. It's as if the