The world was smoke, blood, and static.
Lilly blinked once. Twice. Her ears were ringing—no, not ringing. Buzzing. Like something ancient and buried was trying to claw its way back up through her skull.
Sam.
Where was Sam?
"Sam?" Her voice cracked, weak.
Nothing.
Just the flicker of failing lights and the faint scent of gunpowder. Then came the shift—like gravity hiccupped. Like time decided to bend.
The floor twisted beneath her, and the air turned thick with memory.
And then—She was standing.
No wounds. No smoke. No Sam.
But she wasn't alone.
The Woman in White stood before her, all poise and poison in stilettos that never made a sound. Her smile was a blade dulled only by patience.
"Where—?" Lilly started.
"Sleep," the woman murmured. "You're not dead. Not yet. But your little friend? She's probably worried sick."
Lilly tried to move—tried to run—but the ground beneath her was no longer real. It was Havana now.
The colors bled different here. Hot, sweaty gold and cruel crimson.
Lilly spun around and saw herself—younger. That same rooftop, that same day. Her hands weren't shaking yet, but her eyes were already starting to dim.
The Woman in White walked with her through the memory, like a shadow that refused to be forgotten.
"Do you remember what you did here?" she asked.
"I remember too much," Lilly said through clenched teeth.
The scene played out like a ghost opera:Ava whispering.The rose.The boy.
BANG.
Lilly's younger self dropped the rifle with a clatter. Her lips trembled. Her eyes locked on the falling white petals, bloodied at the edges like the city itself had taken offense.
And then Ava was kissing her.
Hungry. Proud. Predatory.
"You did good," Ava had said.
The memory faded like cigarette smoke curling into the dark.
Lilly stood alone again—no Sam. No rooftop. Just the Woman in White, who now stood inches from her face.
"Ava made me kill a child," Lilly choked out. "I didn't know."
The woman's voice turned to silk dragged over barbed wire."Oh darling… that wasn't just any child."
Lilly's heart stopped. "What?"
"He was my brother."
A silence like gunfire.
Then Sam's voice—real, distant, echoing into the cracks of this dream-state:"LILLY!"
But Lilly was locked in place, eyes wide.
"And now?" the Woman in White said, lifting her hand. A device buzzed in her palm, lit with malevolence. "Now I'm going to return the favor."
Lilly didn't move. "Do it."
The weapon sparked.
Sam's voice screamed again, closer now.
But the woman… smiled.
"No," she said, her breath brushing Lilly's ear. "Killing you would be mercy. And mercy isn't what Havana taught me."
She kissed Lilly on the cheek—soft, haunting, mocking—and vanished into smoke.
When Lilly gasped awake, her body was burning, her shoulder searing—but her eyes? Alive. A new kind of fury lit them up.
Sam was crouched beside her, shaking her. "Lilly! Oh thank God—what happened?!"
Lilly's voice was low. Shaking. "She showed me."
"Who?"
"She brought me back to Havana." Her lip trembled. "She was there."
Sam blinked. "The Woman in White?"
"She's not just a threat, Sam. She's history. She's revenge wearing a smile."
"What do we do?"
Lilly sat up slowly, teeth clenched, fire in her veins. "We hunt her down."
Sam helped her to her feet, blood on both their hands.
"We finish what Havana started."