Saving Michael Jackson

It's hard

They sat us down on hard wooden chairs, the kind that creaked every time you shifted your weight. My wrists felt stiff, my body too aware of every small movement I wasn't allowed to make.
Alfred stood in front of us like this was all just another normal afternoon. Like we weren't hostages. Like my mother's life wasn't hanging somewhere between his words.

"If you move," one of his men said flatly, "we cut her throat."

The sentence landed in the room like a stone dropped into still water.

No one breathed for a second after that. So we didn't have a choice. We stayed still. But inside my head, I was screaming. God, I wanted to shove Alfred out of a window. Off a building. Anywhere. Just far enough that he couldn't smile like that anymore. Alfred sighed dramatically and walked a slow circle around us.

"So," he said casually, "I'm here for two reasons. One being—"

"Being a fucking psychopath," Wanda cut in
instantly, tilting her head with a fake sweet smile.
"And oh, right... the biggest fucking psychopath."

A small chuckle escaped him. "She really does have a big mouth."

"I prefer honesty," she replied.

But Alfred wasn't even looking at her anymore.
His eyes locked on me. That was worse. Much worse.

"I'm more interested in yours," he said softly. Then he leaned closer. "What are these beautiful lips going to say today, hm?"

My stomach tightened.
Before I could answer—

"Leave her alone!" Michael snapped. His voice was sharp, controlled, but burning with anger.

Alfred didn't even blink.

"A-a," he said, lifting a finger. "Careful. I might cut the mother's throat if I get annoyed." Then he tilted his head toward me again. "Is it true, Cindy?" he asked slowly. "Or is it Kate? Your mother from this universe... or yours?"

My blood turned cold. No. He wasn't supposed to know that. My breath caught, but I forced myself to look away.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said quietly.

"Oh, I think you do," he replied, walking in a slow circle around us again. "Why don't you tell your little friends?"

And then—
Everything shattered. A sudden force slammed through the room. Not sound. Not light. Something in between. It felt like reality itself had been punched. Dust exploded into the air. The air distorted. The walls blurred like wet paint being dragged sideways. My ears rang. And then— Nothing. Silence. Complete, heavy silence.
I couldn't hear anything. Couldn't feel the floor properly. Couldn't tell if I was standing or falling.
Just darkness pressing in from every side.
Then— A sharp clap echoed. Light returned instantly. I stumbled forward, gasping— And I was no longer there. We were at Neverland.

My heart pounded violently as I turned in confusion. Michael was in front of me instantly, hands hovering like he was afraid I might break.

"Are you okay?" he asked quickly.

"I—I think so," I breathed.

Wanda spun around. "What the hell just happened? Did we blackout? Did we get drugged? Did I die and miss it?"

Michael ignored her, eyes scanning me carefully before looking around the space.
Something wasn't right.
Then— I felt it too. A presence behind me. I turned.

Liam.