Echoes of her Name

Zayn couldn't breathe.

The name still echoed in his ears, over and over — Jenny.

Her voice. Her laughter. The way she used to tuck her hair behind her ear when she was nervous. The last time he'd held her hand, she'd pressed it to her stomach and whispered something that made his whole world stop.

"I think it's happening," she had said, smiling.

That was before they vanished.

Before everything changed.

Before this world pulled them into a lie.

Now, her name had returned, like a crack of thunder in his mind — and it hurt. Not in the physical sense, but something deeper. Like remembering a dream too wonderful to be real. But he knew she was real. And so was the baby.

They were out there.

And the Watcher was coming for them next.

"We need to find her," Zayn said, voice low, urgent. "Now."

The others didn't argue.

Back at Harry's flat, the five of them gathered around the CD case. The third track glowed faintly even without a player.

Track 3: The Child.

Harry reached toward it, and the disc ejected itself — as if knowing what they needed.

He slid it into the player.

A long silence.

Then — the sound of soft wind chimes.

A heartbeat.

And a lullaby, sung in Jenny's voice.

"Hush now, little one… Stars will guide your sleep…"

Zayn clutched the arm of the chair he sat in. His eyes stung. It was real. That lullaby was hers. She had written it for the baby before they even told anyone.

The track shifted — static fuzzed around the melody, and then came her voice.

Panicked. Breathy. Almost whispering.

"Zayn. If you can hear me… please… I don't know how long I have. I don't know how she found me."

The audio crackled violently.

Then —

"She wants the baby. She says he's the only one that can't forget. That he was born from your truth."

Zayn blinked. "Born from…?"

"She's calling him a tether. I don't understand what it means. But she's trying to—"

Something crashed.

Jenny screamed.

The track cut.

Silence.

The player ejected the disc again. This time, the surface was cracked — as if whatever force was reaching for Jenny had reached through the recording too.

"She's trying to erase her," Liam whispered.

"No," Zayn said. "Not erase. Use her."

Louis leaned forward. "She's collecting pieces of your past to keep you tied here. If the baby's a 'tether'…"

"Then he connects us to the real world," Niall finished. "To who we were before all this."

Zayn stood. "We're finding them. We're getting them back."

—

They had no map this time.

No marked studio or cracked mirror to guide them.

Just instinct. And a name.

Jenny.

Zayn drove.

The city passed in streaks of light and shadow. The further they went, the stranger things felt — people moved too slowly, buildings stood too still, like the world was frozen in a pose it wasn't meant to hold for this long.

Finally, they reached her old apartment.

It was exactly the same — but something was off.

Zayn could feel it before they even entered the building.

"Do you hear that?" he asked.

The others looked around, confused.

"Hear what?"

Zayn stepped closer to the door. There — faint — a music box. Playing the same lullaby from the CD.

He pushed the door open.

Inside, it was dim.

Jenny's scent was still in the air. The smell of lavender and paint and warm coffee.

He walked forward slowly, as if in a dream.

Photos lined the hallway — the two of them at the beach, at their favorite diner, an ultrasound pinned up in the corner of a frame.

Then — he saw her.

Jenny.

Sitting on the couch.

Holding a baby.

She looked up.

Her eyes met his.

And for a second — everything stopped.

"Zayn," she whispered.

He ran to her, falling to his knees.

She touched his face like she didn't believe he was real. "It's really you…"

The others stayed near the door, watching silently.

"I thought I lost you," she said. "I thought… she said you were gone forever."

He looked down at the baby — a boy, maybe six months old, with big brown eyes and the same dimple Zayn had as a kid.

"He's beautiful," Zayn said softly.

Jenny nodded, her voice shaking. "His name is Aydin."

Zayn smiled, tears falling freely. "Aydin…"

But then — the lights flickered.

A low hum began, like the sound of glass cracking under pressure.

Jenny's face darkened. "She's found us."

The mirror above the fireplace rippled.

The Watcher.

Not stepping through — watching.

She said nothing this time.

She didn't need to.

Zayn stood, placing himself between Jenny and the mirror.

"You're not taking them," he said. "Not him. Not her. Not again."

Behind him, the others stepped closer, forming a wall of memory, of truth.

The mirror cracked.

One fracture.

Then another.

The Watcher tilted her head — and disappeared.

The room fell silent.

The baby in Jenny's arms giggled.

—

That night, they stayed at the apartment.

Jenny sat with Liam, Louis, Harry and Niall — catching up, laughing through tears, sharing what little she remembered. She said she didn't know how long she'd been here, or how she stayed hidden, only that Aydin had kept her grounded.

"He reminds me of you," she told Zayn later, as they stood at the window. "Like the real you. Not the one from this world."

Zayn held her hand tightly. "We're getting out. All of us."

"But how?"

"We don't know yet," he admitted. "But we're remembering. That's how she's losing control."

He looked down at Aydin, asleep in Jenny's arms.

"He's our anchor now."

—

Back at the flat, the CD case had changed again.

Track 4: The Truth Beneath

A new message, scrawled in red:

"She can't hold the illusion much longer. But she's not done fighting."

And beneath it:

"One of you will betray the others."

They stared at the words in silence.

And for the first time since their journey began… they were afraid of each other.