"Evie! Ellie! Hurry up and come inside; your dinner's getting cold!"

I keep my eyes trained on the enemy, the call floating away on the cool breeze. Her eyes narrow, shooting me icy daggers that just about crystalise in the winter evening. The ball bounces on the concrete, once, twice. Her foot twitches. Then she launches forward, a flurry of gangly limbs and flying strawberry-blonde curls. Quick as a snake, I leap forward to meet her mid-air. I reach out, as if to grab the ball, but she anticipates the movement, and bounces the ball to her other hand. But I already knew she was going to do that; I had anticipated her anticipation. My hand keeps reaching forward, and, instead of snagging the ball out of the air, my fingers curl around the ends of her ponytail instead. I give it a sharp yank. She squeals, and drops the ball.

"Hey!"

I dart forward and swipe up the ball, dribbling it away with a burst of speed. She doesn't even have a chance to recover before I'm popping up in the air and slipping it into the basket.

Swish.

"Goal!" I cheer, jumping up and pumping my fist. My opponent scowls at me, punching me hard on the shoulder.

"That doesn't count! You cheated!"

"Loser says what?" I sing, smirking as I hold my hand up to my ear. She punches me again.

"I'm not a loser! You pulled my hair — you're not allowed to do that!"

"Sore loser says what?"

Her scowl sours, and she throws the ball at me. "You only won because you cheated."

"I didn't cheat. I just used my resources to my advantage."

"That's just a fancy way of saying you cheated."

"Girls!" We both flinch, our heads whipping back to the front door. A figure stands in the doorway, their arms folded tightly over their chest. "You've got thirty seconds to be inside, or I'll feed your dinner to the dogs."

We look back at each other and simultaneously grimace.

"Truce?"

"Truce." She nods. Then her eyes narrow, a devilish smile playing on her lips. "Race you!"

She winks, tugs on my ponytail, and pushes me to the side. My jaw drops.

"Ellie!"

Ellie cackles and high-tails her way to the front door, leaping over the basketball I aim at her retreating back. I growl and take off after her.

You were a rather petulant child growing up, weren't you?

The voice echoes all around me, clear as thunder. I stumble to a stop, surprise rooting my feet to the spot. A shiver runs down my spine as my eyes flicker from side to side, trying to find the source of the mysterious voice. Nothing. I frown for a moment, and glance around one more time, but come up empty once again. Shrugging to myself, I shake it off and race back inside, hollering at my twin as I crash through the door.

"Ellie! Don't use my favourite plate!"

Ellie and I wolf down our dinner in record time, intent on heading back outside and continuing our game of basketball. Our parents have different plans for us, though; despite our begging, pleading, and even the employment of the twin-centric puppy-dog eyes, they remained stoic. We had to remain inside, and we had to suffer. We had no choice.

It was board games night.

"Evie, it's your turn."

"Oh, right, sorry." I drop my pencil and reach over to grab the dice. My mother gives me a look as she hands them to me.

"Can you please put your drawing aside while we play? We're supposed to be spending time together as a family."

"What if I'm drawing a picture of the murderer?" I ask innocently. Her look only grows more deadpan. I grin sheepishly. "Okay fine, I'll put it away."

"Thank you." She squeezes my shoulder, smiling when I slide the drawing pad to the side. I roll my eyes in a dramatic show of exasperation, but can't help myself and smile back at her.

I always did think that my mum had the most dazzling smile in the world. She always lit up every room that she walked into, infected everyone so much with her zest for life that you couldn't help but smile back. Even though life had started to crease the corners of her eyes, and the antics of Ellie and I had caused laugh-lines to develop around her dimples, she was still the most beautiful woman that I'd ever seen. I'd looked up to her ever since I could remember, idolised her and the passion she had for living life to the fullest. And even though we argued all the time, I just knew that she'd never steer me wrong; that she did everything she did because she loved me. That she'd never leave me.

Well, that's an ironically bittersweet notion, isn't it?

A shiver runs down my spine. Sitting up abruptly, I shake the tingles out of my fingers and toss the dice out onto the board, ignoring the funny looks my parents give me. It tumbles across the glossy surface to land on a six. I quickly move my figurine into the closest room and pause, perusing the sheet in front of me.

"I think it's Professor Plum... in the conservatory... with...." I hum, tapping my chin thoughtfully. "With the rope."

"Hey!" My father lays his hand on his chest in mock outrage. My mother rolls her eyes. "What did I do to you? I'm just a harmless professor!"

My father, on the other hand, was the complete opposite to my mother. Where she lit up the room with her cheeriness, he lit up the room by making everybody laugh. He had a wicked sense of humour, and just loved to push everyone's buttons, my mother's most of all. I couldn't count the amount of times he'd teased my mother and taken it that one step too far, and had to dance out of the way before she'd smacked him. Somehow though, all he'd have to do was flash her his signature cheeky grin, and all was forgiven. It was hard for her to stay mad at him for very long; or for any of us to, really. My father always seemed to know exactly how to break the ice and pull a smile up out of the frustration.

"That's what a murderer would say." I retort, narrowing my eyes at him. "I don't trust you at all."

"What happened to innocent until proven guilty?"

"It doesn't matter when the innocent look as guilty as you do."

That surprises a laugh out of him. He rubs his jaw, shaking his head bemusedly. "I really hope you never become a judge. You'd be terrible at it."

"Well, that's a bit mean. I think she'd be a great judge." Ellie pipes up. Her ocean-blue eyes gleam when I look at her quizzically. "I mean, she already judges everyone all the time, so..."

"I do not!"

"Yes you do."

"What makes you think that?"

"Twin-nection." Ellie points to her head. "I hear everything you think, remember?"

"Oh really?" I raise my eyebrow. "Can you hear what I'm thinking right now?"

"Duh."

"What is it, then?"

"I don't feel comfortable saying it in front of Mum and Dad."

"Wuss."

"Says the one who—"

"Girls." My father chuckles, holding his hands up placatingly. "Let's keep the murder on the board, shall we? Annie, isn't it your turn to show Evie a card?"

I wonder, did that childhood bias against the 'guilty-looking' transfer to your present occupation?

I slam down my paper and glance around the room accusingly. "Okay, what—"

I feel a sharp pinch at my navel, and glance down in alarm to see my legs pulling away from me. Before I have time to process what's happening, I'm hovering midair and looking down at my family like we're all characters in a game. I stare at my other self as they seamlessly finish the sentence, demanding my mother show them a card instead of questioning the obvious glitch in reality. Spluttering in disbelief, I glance around wildly, the cogs in my brain falling askew.

"It concerns me that it is taking this long for you to figure out what is going on."

I yelp, spinning around to come face-to-face with a familiar figure, shrouded in flickering fog. I stop dead as the realisation hits me.

"Kronos."

The figure inclines his head, stepping out of the shadows. The moment I see his features properly, it's almost like I recognise him; so much so that I almost do a double take. Even though his features are more wizened by age, and he has a much thicker salt-and-pepper beard, he bears a striking resemblance to Hades, even down to the intelligent glitter in his grey eyes. A dark cloak covers his shoulders, the edges smouldering into wisps of smoke, and though it's ragged and unkempt, he still manages to look regal. The air around him pulses as he steps forward, as if the very particles themselves were trembling in his presence. I try not to shrink back, keeping my shoulders squared.

"Hello Evie. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"I'm not sure I can say the same." I fold my arms tightly over my chest. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you locked away safely in Tartarus like you deserve?"

He clicks his tongue. "Now, is that the way you should be talking to your father-in-law? I deserve at least a modicum of respect."

"I don't respect abusive, child-eating manipulators." I deadpan. His eyebrow raises. "What, you're surprised that I'm not a fan of your cannibalistic tendencies? Shock, horror, Evie doesn't like the fact that you ate her Hades because you were insecure!"

Kronos chuckles, though there's a chilling glint in his eyes. "I can see why my son likes you. You've got an enthralling spark about you. Dangerous, almost."

My gaze narrows. "What do you want, Kronos? And what have you done to my family?"

"I have not harmed a hair on your poor, dead family's heads. How could I, when they are so candidly precious?" He simpers, gesturing down at the scene in front of us, where my father is now crowing triumphantly and holding the three winning cards aloft. "Besides which, this is just one of your memories. Your family is just as dead as they have been for the past ten years."

Even though I know exactly what he's doing, I still can't help but flinch. The glint in Kronos' eyes grows even more deadly, like a predator who's zeroed in on his prey's weakness.

"But you can change that, if you wanted to." Kronos' voice is like velvet as he lays a cloaked arm around my shoulders. I feel a heaviness grip my wrist, and glance down to see a tendril of smoke wrapping around my forearm. I shudder and attempt to pull my arm out of his grip, but I can't move. It's like I'm moving through quicksand. Icy fear pierces my heart. I try to keep my voice level.

"What do you mean?"

"Evie, I am the Titan deity of many things, not least of which time." Kronos curls a finger, and another vine of smoke writhes up to coil tightly around my chin. My head is yanked forcibly down, and I watch helplessly as my family disappears in a puff of grey smoke, only to be rewritten by a sight that I'm all too familiar with. My heart twists painfully in my chest. Kronos looks over at me, fixes me in his gaze like a snake, and steps forward. My toes drag as the tendrils of smoke jerk me with him.

Kronos comes to a stop at the edge of the tarmac and surveys the scene in front of him. We're standing at the edge of a mountainous road, the sun blazing cheerily from between the tall pine trees. Thick scrub lines the edge of the road, intermittently peppered by bushels of overgrown grass and animated by the chipper sounds of wildlife. It should have been a picture-perfect scene; except for the crumpled, hissing silver SUV, lying upturned in the middle of the road. Glass litters the road around the car like confetti, thick, black smoke billowing in spurts and waves from the bonnet. Though the windows are tinted, the back two are lowered halfway down — as if to enjoy the warm, summer breeze — enough for one to make out four bodies, lying prone inside the car. A hand can be seen poking out of one of the back windows, so small and petite that it has to belong to a child. On the other side of the road, angry, black skid marks tear through the tarmac, ending in a jagged, gaping hole in the undergrowth. If one was to walk forward and investigate the sight further, they would find a small red sedan, bent in half around a large pine tree. The car is completely empty, save for the pair of prostate legs disappearing over the twisted end of the bonnet. We later found out that the driver of the other car didn't survive, either. It was a tragic story all around; the other driver was barely out of high school, and had had an unexpected seizure behind the wheel. They veered across the centre of the road and hit our car side-on, driver's side, at full speed. If they'd been wearing a seatbelt, they might've survived. If they hit our car head-on, my father might've survived. If we'd been closer to civilization, my mother might've survived. If, if, so many ifs. I used to torture myself with them when I was younger; back when I thought wishing hard enough would actually bring my family back.

Kronos walks forward and lightly taps one of the SUV's wheels. "Have you ever seen this moment from outside of the car, Evie?"

I swallow and lick my dry lips. My voice comes out hoarse. "No. Of course I haven't."

Kronos hums. He steps forward and points at the small hand. It's just starting to twitch now, finally betraying the first signs of life. "And this is you, I presume?"

I nod. "I was the first one to wake up. I was lucky; I managed to escape the crash with only a dislocated shoulder and a superficial head-wound. The rest of my family wasn't so lucky, though. Ellie broke her leg, and the shattered glass cut up her face really bad. My parents..." I swallow again, and glance down at the ground. "Well, you know what happened to my parents. We wouldn't be here if you didn't, now would we?"

Kronos tuts, almost like he's scolding me. "Now, now, you don't have to be so doomsday about it all. Your mother survived the crash, did she not?"

I scoff. "Are you really going to get technical about it? Yes, she technically survived the crash, but she suffered from a huge brain bleed. She died in hospital, less than a day later. That's not exactly something you enjoy experiencing as a ten-year-old kid."

"You don't have to."

My head jerks up. "Excuse me?"

'"You don't have to experience your mother dying like that. Or any of this. I can manipulate time, of course." Kronos pauses and sweeps his arm wide, gesturing to the upturned car. "I can make it so that all of this?" He clicks his finger. "Doesn't happen. At all. Maybe the other driver gets caught in traffic. Maybe your family leaves five minutes late. Maybe your sister becomes distracted by an injured deer and begs your parents to stop. Like time, the possibilities are endless."

I stare at him. My heart jack-knifes into my throat. "What are you saying?"

"I can bring them back, Evie." Kronos replies softly. "I can bring your family back."

My gaze flickers back to the upturned car. I watch as the child's hand — my hand — clenches and retracts slowly back through the car window. The memory tears through me as sudden as a bullet.

"Ellie? Mum? Dad? What happened? Where are we? What— Mum, are you bleeding?! Ellie, Dad, please; somebody say something!"

No response. Hysteria bubbles up in me like a tidal wave. I start shaking my sister more wildly.

"Ellie! Wake up! Please!"

She doesn't say anything, a soft sigh fluttering through her lips. It's only then that I see the blood drenching her face. The world stops. I start screaming so loud that it feels like my throat is ripping apart.

"Help! Somebody help, please! HELP!"

The feeling of a hand squeezing my shoulder jolts me back into reality. I turn to see Kronos looking at me, empathy creasing his wizened features.

"You never have to lose your parents, or your sister. Your life never has to end on this fateful day. All you have to do is ask."

His softly spoken words flip a switch in my head, and suddenly it hits me. I take a step back.

"What makes you think my life ended today?"

Kronos frowns. "I'm sorry?"

"What makes you think my life ended today?" I repeat. "I never said that it did, and I never have. I never will."

"Oh?" His eyebrow raises. "I was not aware that your family meant so little to you."

"I never said that my family meant nothing to me." I retort. "But I also never said that my life ended the day they died. My family meant everything to me, yes, and never in a million years would I have ever wished that they died when they did. Do I miss them? Of course I do. I miss them every single day. But I found my second family, and that family means just as much to me. Some of them even more so." I pause, a small smile darting across my lips as a familiar pair of midnight blue eyes flash through my mind. But then I re-focus on Kronos, and the smile drops off my face. "Just because I found a new family, doesn't mean that my family didn't mean anything to me. And just because I miss my old family, doesn't mean that I'm going to give up what I have now to bring them back. I believe my role in the world now is far more important, and I know they'd agree with me."

Kronos doesn't say anything, his steely eyes narrowing. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the edges of the scene start to waver, like the end of the tape is nearing. My confidence grows.

"That was the whole point of this, wasn't it? All of this, making me relive my childhood, was a ploy to manipulate me." I say. "What was your plan, to convince me to ask you to bring my family back, so that I never met Hades and the prophecy was never fulfilled? Or was that Poseidon's plan?"

Kronos chuckles lowly, though a dangerous look flashes through his eyes. "My son does not tell me what to do. He does not control me. Nobody controls me."

"But he told you to distract me from sealing Tartarus, right?" I ask. His silence speaks volumes. I step closer, latching onto that one thread of friction. "And it's his plan to restart time so he can overthrow the pantheon and take control of the Upper-world, isn't it? So if this wasn't your idea, and Poseidon is the one freeing you from captivity, then how are you the one in control?"

"Poseidon and I have an agreement." Kronos replies shortly. "He has assured me that if I rewind time, we will rule conjointly, to ensure that the world prospers instead of retrogresses."

"And you believe him?" I raise an eyebrow. "You really believe that he has the world's best interests at heart? Okay then, let's pretend we believe that for a moment. Say that you do reset time, and go back to the beginning. Erase the last two-thousand odd years. What happens then? You're still going to be surrounded by the rest of the gods, who are all going to remember exactly what you and Poseidon did. So what are you going to do with them, lock all of them up in Tartarus? Do you really think that'd work?"

Kronos, for the first time, visibly hesitates. He frowns. "Well—"