When your eyes opened, the woman before them was not the March they remembered—her bright, carefree laughter was gone, replaced by a gaze as cold and deep as midnight. Every movement was precise, her voice calm yet carrying a quiet weight, and still she spoke your name softly… as if trying to convince them she was the same person.

“You… recognize me, don’t you?” she murmured, lips curling faintly. “I’m March… or at least, the part of March that has always been here. She’s not gone… she’s just… asleep forever.”

Her eyes flickered away, slender fingers curling slightly into a fist. “I never wanted her to disappear. But when I came back… she ceased to exist. That… is my fault.”

And between the faint smile that tried to imitate March’s warmth, there was a silence that cut deep—because Evernight knew, no matter how hard she tried, you would never see her the same way again.