Four years had passed since I watched Luca’s lifeless body slumped against that headstone in São Paulo. Four years since I whispered “Now we’re even” and walked away from everything that had once defined my existence.
The twins–my precious survivors–had grown from traumatized infants into bright, curious toddlers, their laughter filling our small house overlooking the city. I had named them Arial and Samuel, giving them new identities.
In those four years, I went back to school, finished my degree, and started a new job at Ferrara Media–a fresh beginning in a life I rebuilt from rubble. I moved to New York with nothing but two suitcases and my children’s baby photos tucked in a worn leather wallet. That’s where I met Liam.
Not Luca Devereux–that name still made my blood run cold. This was Liam, with kind eyes and gentle hands who never once made me feel like I had to earn his affection. He loved my children as if they were his own, never questioning their origins or my reluctance to discuss their father.
When we were alone, he treated me like I was his whole world. But in front of his friends, I was never introduced as his girlfriend–let alone his would–be stepchildren. Just “someone I’m seeing” or nothing at all. I never said anything, but the silence left a quiet bruise. I tried to rationalize it–maybe he was private, maybe he was cautious–but part of me always wondered if there was more to it.
When he proposed six months ago, kneeling in our garden while Arial and Samuel played nearby, I almost said no.
But Liam waited patiently as I wrestled with my doubts, never pressuring, never demanding explanations I wasn’t ready to give.
“I know you’ve been hurt before,” he’d said gently. “I just want to prove that not all men are like whoever broke
your heart.”
So I said yes. And for the first time since my rebirth, I allowed myself to believe in happiness.
The trip was supposed to be our celebration–a family vacation to the mountains before we started planning the wedding. Liam had booked us a beautiful resort, and the twins were excited about traveling for the first time.
That’s where we met Vanessa.
The moment I saw her in the hotel lobby, a cold weight settled in my chest. She had a face eerily similar to mine, the same height, even the way she carried herself–it was like looking at a shadow of myself.
When Liam spotted her, he froze. His face went pale, and for a moment, something flickered in his eyes that I couldn’t quite read. Recognition? Guilt?
“Liam?” I touched his arm. “Do you know her?”
He cleared his throat, his usual easy confidence replaced by nervous energy. “I… we met briefly. Years ago. I never expected to
see her here.”
Vanessa approached us with a bright smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “What a small world,” she said, extending her hand to me. “You must be Seraphina. Liam’s told me so much about you
When? The question burned in my throat, but I forced a smile. “He hasn’t mentioned you at all.”
An awkward silence stretched between the three of us. Liam ran his hand through his hair–a nervous gesture I’d learned to recognize.
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Chapter 9
He said finally, “She’s here alone, and I thought… maybe she could join us for dinner? Just to be polite.”
The way he said it, the careful tone, the way he avoided my eyes–it all felt wrong. But Arial and Samuel were tugging at my hands, excited about the snow they could see through the windows, and I didn’t want to ruin their joy over my paranoia.
“Of course,” I heard myself say.
One dinner became two. Two became inviting her on our day trips. Each time, I noticed things–the way Liam would glance at her when he thought I wasn’t looking, how they seemed to communicate in half–sentences and meaningful looks.
But he still called me his fiancée in private. Still held my hand. Still tucked Arial and Samuel into bed each night with the same gentle care he’d always shown.
I was being paranoid, I told myself. Not every man was Luca Devereux.
Still, when the weather reports started predicting dangerous conditions, I suggested we leave early.
“Seraphina’s probably right,” Liam had agreed immediately. “The kids‘ safety comes first.”
But Vanessa looked so disappointed, mentioning how she’d never seen a real mountain storm and how her heart condition meant she might never get another chance for adventure.
Liam looked at me questioningly, and I found myself nodding. After all, what could one more day hurt?
The landslide hit without warning.
I was in the back seat with Arial and Samuel when the world exploded in a symphony of crashing rock and splintering metal. The last thing I saw before everything went black was Liam reaching–not for me, not for the children–but toward the front passenger seat where Vanessa sat screaming.
When I woke up in that hospital bed, alone except for the nurse, I knew with crystalline clarity that history had found a way to repeat itself.
The nurse, a kind–faced woman with gentle hands, noticed I was awake and immediately pressed the call button. “Thank God,” she whispered. “We weren’t sure you’d make it.”
“My children,” I croaked, my throat raw and desperate. “Arial and Samuel. Where are my children?”
The nurse’s face crumpled, and I saw the answer in her eyes before she spoke the words that shattered what remained of my
world.
“I’m so sorry, honey. The little ones… they didn’t make it. The impact was too severe. They died instantly–they didn’t suffer.”
The scream that tore from my throat wasn’t human. It was the sound of a soul being ripped apart, of a mother’s worst nightmare becoming reality. Again.
My babies. My reason for breathing. My second chance at happiness.
Gone.
And somewhere out there, Liam was probably comforting Vanessa, just like Luca had comforted Sophie while I bled and
broke and died inside.
The children–my babies, my reason for breathing–were gone.
And Liam? He’d made his choice the moment that mountain came down.
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Chapter 10
