I HAD THE DEVIL'S TWINS

CHAPTER FIVE: MIRA

I woke up to sunlight and pain. Everything hurt—my entire body felt like one giant bruise. But Mira was still in my arms, sleeping peacefully, and that was all that mattered.

Dr. Reyes appeared with breakfast and medication. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a truck," I admitted.

"That's normal after giving birth to twins." She helped me sit up carefully. "Can you stand?"

I tried. My legs shook but held. Barely.

"Good enough," Dr. Reyes said. "We need to get you out of here before Victor returns. He usually comes back in the afternoon to check on things."

The nurses had prepared a bag with baby supplies—diapers, formula, bottles, clothes. Everything I'd need for the first few weeks. They'd also included the check from Victor.

Six million dollars. Blood money. The price of my son.

I tucked it into the bag anyway. I'd need it to disappear, to start over somewhere. Victor and his employer could never find us.

"There's a car waiting at the service entrance," Dr. Reyes said. "One of the groundskeepers owes me a favor. He'll drive you to the train station."

"Thank you," I whispered. "For everything."

She pressed an additional envelope into my hand. "The rest of the money you promised us. We didn't take it."

I stared at her in shock. "Why not?"

"Because what was done to you wasn't right. Keeping your secret felt like the least we could do." She squeezed my hand. "Take care of that little girl. Give her a good life."

I wanted to hug her, but I could barely walk. I just nodded, tears burning my eyes again.

The escape was a blur. Dr. Reyes and the nurses helped me down a back staircase, through hallways I'd never seen before. My body screamed in protest with every step, but I kept moving. I had to. For Mira.

The car was old but reliable. The groundskeeper—an elderly man who didn't ask questions-drove carefully, taking back roads away from the estate. I watched through the rear window as the prison I'd lived in for eight months disappeared behind trees.

"Where to, miss?" he asked.

"The train station," I said, holding Mira close. "And then as far away from here as possible."

FIVE YEARS LATER

"Mira! Don't run off like that!"

I chased after my daughter through the airport, my carry-on bag banging against my hip. She'd spotted something shiny in a shop window and taken off before I could stop her.

Five years old and already giving me gray hair.

I finally caught up to her outside a candy store, where she was pressing her nose against the glass and staring at the chocolate display.

"Mommy, can we get some?" she asked, looking up at me with those big gray eyes that still made my heart hurt.

Gray eyes like her father's. Like her twin brother's, probably, though I'd never know for sure.

"Maybe later," I said, taking her hand firmly. "We need to catch our flight."

"But Mommy—"

"No buts. Come on."

We were returning to Crestfall City after five years away. Five years of hiding, of building a new life in a small coastal town where no one asked questions. Five years of working three jobs to support us while saving every penny I could.

But it was time to go back. Time to reclaim what was stolen from my family. Time to stop running.

I'd built myself back up slowly—finished my degree online, gained experience in hotel management, became someone new. Someone stronger than the broken girl who'd been drugged and kidnapped and forced to give up her baby.

Mira skipped along beside me, chattering about the airplane and whether they'd have movies. She was happy, healthy, smart as a whip. She asked about her father sometimes. I told her the truth—that he didn't know about her, that it was complicated.

She'd stopped asking as much lately. I didn't know if that was better or worse.

"Mommy, look!" Mira pulled away from me again, this time running toward a tall man in an expensive suit.

My heart stopped. But it wasn't him. Couldn't be him. I didn't even know what he looked like.

Still, something about the man made me nervous as Mira ran right up to him.

"Mira!" I called out, rushing after her as fast as I could with my bag.

She'd already reached the man and was tugging on his jacket. He turned around, looking down at her with surprise. Even from a distance, I could see he was handsome in that cold, untouchable way rich men always were. Tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a suit that probably cost more than my monthly rent.

Another man stood beside him—shorter, wearing glasses, carrying a briefcase. His assistant, probably.

"I'm so sorry," I said breathlessly when I reached them, grabbing Mira's hand. "She gets excited and forgets her manners."

The tall man stared at Mira with an odd expression. Not annoyed exactly. More like confused. His assistant looked equally surprised.

"It's fine," the man said. His voice was deep and controlled. Something about it made my skin prickle with familiarity, but that was impossible.

Mira smiled up at him, completely fearless. "You dropped this, mister."

She held out a piece of chocolate wrapped in gold foil. It must have fallen from his pocket or his bag.

The man glanced at it, then at Mira. "Keep it."

"Really?" Mira's eyes went wide.

"Mira, we can't," I started.

"I insist," the man interrupted. He reached into his bag and pulled out a whole box of the same expensive chocolates. "Take the box. My son has plenty."

The assistant—the one with glasses—made a strangled sound. The tall man shot him with a look that said shut up.

"That's very kind but—" I began.

"I want them, Mommy!" Mira bounced on her toes. "Please?"

I looked at the man, trying to figure out his angle. Rich men didn't just give expensive gifts to random children in airports without wanting something. But his expression seemed genuine. Almost... soft.

"Thank you," I finally said. "That's generous."

Mira took the box carefully, like it was treasure. Then, before I could stop her, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed the man's cheek.

"You're nice," she announced. "Not like the other grown-ups who tell me to go away."

The man actually smiled. A small smile, but real. "You're very bold for someone so small."

"Mommy says I got it from her," Mira said proudly.

The assistant checked his watch. "Boss, we need to go. The car's waiting."

"Right." The man's smile faded back into that cold, controlled expression. He looked at me briefly—our eyes met for just a second—and I felt that strange familiarity again. Like I should know him from somewhere.

But I'd never seen him before in my life. I was sure of it.

"Have a safe flight," he said, then walked away with his assistant hurrying behind him.

I watched them go, that weird feeling still crawling under my skin.

"He was nice," Mira said, hugging the chocolate box. "I bet he's a good daddy to his son."

"Maybe," I muttered, pulling her toward our gate. "But you can't just run up to strangers like that, baby. It's not safe."

"But he gave me chocolate!"

"This time. Next time you might not be so lucky." I squeezed her hand gently. "Promise me you'll stay close from now on."

She sighed dramatically like I was asking for the world. "Fine. I promise."

We made it to our gate with twenty minutes to spare. I bought us both water and found seats near the window. Mira immediately started opening the chocolate box, examining each piece like a scientist.

"Can I have one now?" she asked.

"One," I agreed. "Save the rest for later."

She picked a dark chocolate with caramel and a bit into it, making happy sounds. I watched her and felt my chest get tight with love and fear all mixed together.

This city we were going back to—it held so many bad memories. The night I was drugged. The months locked away. Giving birth and having my son taken. All of it happened there.

But I couldn't run forever. And I needed to rebuild my life properly. Crestfall City had opportunities my small coastal town didn't. Better jobs. Better schools for Mira. A chance to actually

Move forward instead of just surviving.

I just had to make sure our paths never crossed with the man who'd fathered my children. Whoever he was.