forever and always ?Dominic Toretto?

The air in Los Angeles felt warmer than she remembered. Maybe because she was finally breathing free.

Ariana stood on the curb outside 1327, Dom's house. It looked like it had lived a thousand lives—just like her. The house was modest, worn in like a favorite leather jacket. There were burn marks on the driveway, a dent in the garage door, and the front porch swing creaked like it held secrets. Somehow, it felt like home.

Dom stood beside her, keys dangling from his fingers. He didn't say anything, just pushed the door open like he had a thousand times before.

"You sure you're ready?" he asked.

She didn't answer. She didn't need to.

The second she stepped over the threshold, something stirred. It wasn't a full memory—just a flicker. The scent of engine oil. The click of beer bottles. Laughter.

And music.

There had been music here. Loud, fast, the kind that made her want to dance barefoot on the counter while Dom watched her with that look that always made her knees weak.

She turned in a slow circle, taking in every detail. The leather couch with a small tear in the corner. The scratched-up kitchen table. The dusty family photos on the wall. Dom and Brian. Mia and Letty. And in one photo, a younger version of her—grinning, wild-haired, arms draped around Roman and Tej.

She stared at it for a long time.

Dom came up behind her, his hand gently brushing her arm.
"You were happy here."

Her voice cracked when she spoke.
"I look happy. But I don't... remember how that feels."

He nodded, pulling her gently into his chest.
"Then we'll make new memories. One day at a time."

⸻

By late afternoon, the roar of engines returned to 1327. Roman's orange speedster, Tej's matte black ride, and Hobbs' government-issued beast of a truck rolled up in perfect disorganized sync.

Ariana stepped onto the porch just as Mia opened the car door and ran to her.

"You're really back," Mia said, tears threatening to spill. "You made it."

"You helped," Ariana said, hugging her tight. "I heard your voice before I remembered your name. That's how I knew you mattered."

Behind them, Roman shouted.
"Damn, this feels like a cookout and a therapy session at the same time!"

"Shut up, Roman," Letty tossed back as she carried two bags of food.

The grill was lit. Bottles clinked. Plates stacked high with food passed around. For a few hours, it felt like nothing had ever been broken.

Ariana sat between Dom and Letty, arms brushing each time she reached for her drink. She was laughing—until the sun dipped below the horizon and shadows lengthened across the backyard.

That's when she felt it again.

That presence.

Her smile faded. Her fingers tensed around the bottle.

Dom leaned in.
"What is it?"

"Nothing. Just... a chill."

But she couldn't shake the feeling. Someone was watching.

And she wasn't wrong.

⸻

Across the street, in the alley behind the corner store, a shadow moved.

The man crouched low behind a dumpster, hood pulled tight over his head. He watched Ariana like a predator tracking prey. A burner phone buzzed in his hand.

Text Message:

She's alive. She's back with them.

A pause. Then another message blinked onto the screen:

Don't move yet. Let her feel safe. Then we strike.

The man smirked and slid the phone back into his pocket.

The boss always played the long game.

⸻

Hours later, after the backyard had gone quiet and the last of the team had left, Ariana stood in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were rimmed with smoke and memory. Her reflection didn't look like a stranger anymore—but it still didn't feel like her.

She pulled open a drawer and found a ring tucked in the corner. A simple silver band, worn and scratched. She picked it up—and a flash hit her like lightning.

A memory.

She was in this very house—shirt tied at the waist, grease on her cheek, laughing as Dom placed the ring on her finger.

"You and me," he had whispered.
"Ride or die."

The ring slipped from her fingers, clinking into the sink. She gasped, gripping the edge.

Dom appeared in the doorway, his voice soft.
"What did you remember?"

She turned to him, tears in her eyes.

"Us."
A beat. "I remember us."

Dom closed the distance in two strides, pulling her into his arms. She sank into him like a missing piece finally returned.

⸻

Across town, in an underground bunker lit by harsh fluorescent lights, the burner phone buzzed again.

A voice answered. Cold. Precise.

"She remembers. That complicates things."

Another voice—female—replied through the speaker.
"We were never after her memories."

"No. We were after what she hid before she lost them."

The camera zoomed in on a grainy black-and-white photo. Ariana—before the memory loss. Infiltrating a black ops facility. Slipping out with a case.

"And now that she's remembering... we'll find it."

⸻

Back at 1327, Dom and Ariana lay in bed, her head on his chest.

For now, she was safe.

But in the shadows, the past was stirring.

And it was coming for her.