A new begining

18 years later.

Mark leaned against the kitchen counter, nursing a cup of coffee as the morning light filtered through the wide windows of their main house. It was a nice place, spacious, modern, and carefully chosen. No glass display cases. No frozen women posed as furniture. No quiet, unblinking figures standing in corners. Just a normal home.

That had been the point.

Katie sat across from him at the island, scrolling through something on her tablet. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and she still had that athlete’s posture even years after her last Olympic appearance. She looked up when she felt him watching her.

“You’re thinking about it again,” she said.

Mark exhaled through his nose. “Hard not to.”

She set the tablet down. “We talked about this for months after they were born. We both agreed.”

“I know.” He took another sip of coffee. “Doesn’t mean I don’t still wonder if we made the right call.”

Katie was quiet for a moment. Then she stood, walked around the island, and leaned against him. “They deserved a chance at a normal childhood, Mark. Growing up in a house full of frozen women… that changes a person. We both know that. We *lived* that.”

He didn’t argue. They had lived it. For years the collection had been part of daily life, sex, furniture, photography, convenience. It had been easy. Too easy. When the twins were born, something had shifted. The idea of their kids growing up around frozen bodies had forced a decision neither of them had expected to make so soon after becoming parents.

So they had split their lives.

The main house, the one they raised the twins in, was clean. No dolls. No time-stopped bodies. Just the two of them, the kids, and whatever normal chaos came with raising teenagers. The other property, a large, private house on the edge of the city with high walls and good security, held everything else. Their girls. The collection.

They visited often.

“Regina’s going to be there today,” Katie said, as if reading his thoughts. “She’s been staying at the other house for the last couple weeks. Working on some new pieces.”

Mark nodded. Regina had never fully given up the lifestyle the way they had. She still kept a smaller personal collection, and she treated the main storage house like a second studio. She also still had Kelly. The poor girl had been frozen so long she was basically Regina’s permanent assistant and occasional art subject.

“You want to go this afternoon?” Mark asked.

“Yeah. The kids are both out until evening. Jack’s with the babysitter studying, and Lily has practice.” Katie smiled faintly. “We can check on everyone. Make sure nothing’s shifted.”

They still referred to the older ones by name out of habit. Tracy Reynolds was still posed near the front entrance the way she had been for years. Haley Bailey and one of the Mission twins were usually arranged on the long couch. Christina Bates still held her place as a living lamp in the side room. A few of the early favorites, Abby, Sadie, the former teacher Kirsten, were deeper in the house, kept in the same condition they had been in for over a decade.

Mark set his coffee down. “Alright. Let’s go see the girls.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The drive to the other house took about twenty-five minutes. It sat behind a gated driveway and tall hedges, deliberately unremarkable from the outside. Inside was a different story.

Regina met them at the door. She looked good, lean, sharp-eyed, hair cut shorter than it used to be. She had a smudge of clay on her forearm and the easy confidence of someone who had never really stopped playing god.

“About time,” she said. “I was starting to think you two had gone fully domestic on me.”

Katie rolled her eyes and hugged her. “We still visit.”

“You visit,” Regina corrected. “You don’t *live* it anymore.” There was no real judgment in her voice, just observation. She stepped aside and let them in.

The front room was quiet. A few of the older dolls stood in their usual places. Tracy was posed near the entrance in a simple dress, hands folded, eyes blank. Further in, Haley and one of the Mission twins were arranged on a long couch like living décor. The air smelled faintly of the cleaning products Regina used to keep everything dust-free.

Mark walked through slowly, the way he always did.

Katie moved to a side table where Christina stood holding a small lamp. She brushed a bit of imaginary dust from the frozen cheerleader’s shoulder and groped her without a care.

“Everything still stable?” Mark asked.

Regina nodded. “Yeah. Same as always.” She glanced at him. “You still good with this arrangement? Raising them clean while the real collection sits out here?”

Mark didn’t answer right away. He looked at the frozen women, then toward the hallway that led deeper into the house where even more of them waited.

“They don’t know any of this exists,” he said finally. “And for now… that’s how it needs to stay.”

Regina studied him for a second, then shrugged. “Your kids. Your call.” She smirked. “Just don’t be surprised if they turn out more like us than you planned.”

Katie gave her a look. “They’re good kids.”

“They’re *our* kids,” Regina replied. “That’s not the same thing.”

None of them argued with that.

After a moment of quiet, Regina tilted her head. “Speaking of which… any signs yet? Powers?”

Mark’s expression tightened slightly. Katie answered first.

“I’ve been watching,” she said. “Closely. Nothing so far. No strange gaps, no odd behavior, nothing that feels like time skipping or people suddenly changing their minds.”

“You’re sure?” Regina asked.

“As sure as I can be.” Katie glanced at Mark. “He’s more suspicious than I am.”

Mark didn’t deny it. “It’s hard not to be. We both know how early it can show up.”

“Ashley never got anything,” Katie pointed out. “It isn’t guaranteed. Just because we have it doesn’t mean they will.”

Regina considered that, then gave a small nod. “Fair. My girls haven’t shown anything either.” She said it casually, but the implication landed. Regina had two daughters of her own. Their father had been out of the picture for years, removed cleanly once Regina decided she didn’t need him anymore.

Mark looked at her. “Still nothing from them?”

“Not a flicker,” Regina said. “And I’ve been paying attention.”

The three of them stood there for a while longer, surrounded by the quiet, unmoving forms of the women they had collected years ago. Outside, the day continued like any other.

For now.