And there she was.
My Nina. Standing in our bedroom, holding the device, looking like she hadn't slept in weeks.
"Alex! Thank God, I found you. I've been searching through seventeen dimensions, I—"
She stopped. Stared at Mira in my bed. At the apartment we'd made into a home. At the life I'd built without her.
"Who is that?"
Mira pulled the sheets up, terrified. "Alex? What's happening? Who is this woman?"
"Nina," I said. "My Nina."
"Your Nina is dead."