Chapter Text
Third POV
Maximoff.
A name neither woman expected to ever hear again. For each of them it meant something different. For Agatha, it meant nights of fun in the search for something higher than anyone could understand. For Nat, that name brought back memories of a past life before she finally settled down—when she was still discovering herself. And for Rio… for Rio that name meant everything. It was a reminder of what life could have been if she had not run away that day. If she wasn’t a coward.
Rio closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If she paid enough attention, she could still hear Wanda’s giggles, feel the way her slender fingers fit perfectly through her own. She gathered the courage and opened the envelope, thanking whoever higher power was out there that after all this time, Wanda had finally found her—that maybe, she could turn back time and rewrite their story. With trembling hands, she took the letter out.
"You might think this is Wanda, well it’s not, I mean not entirely… I am her daughter and I have reasons to believe you might have the answers I am looking for. If my suspicions are correct, you and my mother have some complicated history that for some reason affects me today. So here I am, asking you to take a leap of faith and trust this basically stranger who is writing to you to ask you to come to my 18th birthday party which is in two weeks. The address is…"
Rio couldn’t believe her eyes.
Wanda had a daughter…
Rio’s POV
How is this possible?
Did she move on?
Of course she did—it’s been years, and I left without a word.
Rio was filled by a rage of jealousy.
She’s into men now?
No—no, focus, Vidal.
You have no right to be angry. You have no right to judge.
You left her. You.
18th birthday… Her daughter is turning 18 in two weeks…
What if…
No. No, it’s impossible. Isn’t it?
But what if she never stopped waiting for me?
Third POV
The air was thick with magic.
Deep in a cave carved in glowing runes sat Agatha Harkness, flipping lazily through the pages of an old spellbook.
“What could Maximoff possibly want from me after all these years?”
She muttered, not bothering to hide the smirk tugging at her lips. Her eyes flicked toward the unopened envelope resting on a nearby wooden table, sealed in scarlet wax.
“Maybe she finally realized how big of a mistake was leaving me and she wants another round of this piece of cake, what do you say, Señor Scratchy?”
The bunny tilted his head, gave her a look, then hopped away.
“Rude…”
Agatha said flatly as she rolled her eyes, reaching for the letter. She cracked the seal and unfolded the paper, skimming it with a raised brow.
“Oh my… Maximoff got herself a Minimoff...”
Her grin widened.
“Interesting. Señor Scratchy, we’re going on a trip!”
She smirked as she brought the letter to her lips.
When Natasha Romanoff found the letter, she had just returned from her honeymoon.
“Babe, did we forget to send all the thank-you cards?”
She called out to her wife, eyeing the unfamiliar envelope on the kitchen counter. She turned it over slowly. As she read the sender’s name, a strange warmth spread through her chest—soft and unexpected.
Unlike Rio or Agatha, Nat was actually thankful for the time she spent by Wanda’s side. In fact, she had to thank Wanda for the way her life turned out. Sure, their time together had been brief, but it had taught her something vital—about love and letting go, and more importantly, about becoming the kind of woman who could love someone fully.
She was so absorbed in the letter, she didn’t hear the soft footsteps behind her or notice the arms wrapping gently around her waist.
“Did something happen?”
Came out of Maria’s mouth as she pressed a soft kiss on Nat’s neck.
Nat smiled, blinking quickly as she folded the letter again.
“A ghost from the past,”
She said, tucking it close to her chest.
“But not the bad kind.”
She turned in Maria’s arms.
“I think we better pack our bags again.”
Two weeks later
Ever since she sent out those letters, Evie has been buzzing with excitement.
This was her chance. From what she’d gathered from her mother’s stories and journals, one of these three women might hold the answers she’d so desperately been looking for her whole life…
Wanda had noticed her daughter’s shift in mood—but had chalked it up to birthday excitement.
Little did she know that her daughter was about to turn her world upside down… again.
It wasn’t helping that she could see traces of her in Evie. She was in the little things.
The way she smirked mid-sentence. The quick, witty comebacks.
And those deadly dimples… so unmistakably… hers.
It filled Wanda with a mixture of overwhelming love… and deep, aching regret.
The preparations for Evie’s birthday were in full swing. Wanda was rummaging through an old box. What she was looking for—she wasn’t sure.
She stumbled upon a worn-out, leather journal. Faded photos peeked out of it, like secrets coming out of their hiding place between the pages.
She paused for a second. Her hand trembled as she took it out of the box. Slender fingers traced the spine of it with reverence and hesitantly opened it.
That’s when she saw her again.
Years of bottled feelings came rushing over like a tidal wave.
She took a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She hadn’t realized how much she still cared about her—until now.
Looking at that photo felt like reopening an old wound.
How did things turn out this way?
They were so young, so happy… Anyone who looked at that photo could see it—the love flowing around them. Real. Raw.
She brushed away a tear that escaped and made her way to the bed, journal still clutched to her chest.
Unbeknownst to Wanda, three shadows from the past were already making their way back…