Naomi’s POV
She’d drawn twelve of them.
Twelve shadowy figures.
All with Miranda’s face.
I sat on the nursery floor with her sketchbook open in my lap, heart racing as I traced each crayon outline with shaky hands. They weren’t all identical—some had shorter hair, others wore different clothes. But the eyes… the eyes were definitely mine.
And that’s what terrified me most, it was scary to get answers to them.
“Sweetheart,” I whispered as Miranda played with blocks nearby, trying to keep my emotions in check, “who are these?”
She looked up, smiled innocently. “My sisters.”
I tried to keep my voice calm, Your sisters? “Where did you see them?”
“In my dream,” she said simply. “They were waiting.”
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Raymond found me ten minutes later, sitting in the dark nursery, shaking. I cried
