Ava's perspective
The stillness in the room was louder than any cry. Two babies. One cradle. One memory. My hands trembled.
"Say it again," I whispered.
"You left me," the child repeated. His voice, ancient and resonant with agony, jarred something loose within me. I caught glimpses of terror. Blood on the hospital bed. Caleb's name was whispered once. Not Liam. Caleb.
Damian Point of View
The air in the room felt dense, like if you were trying to breathe underwater. Ava stood frozen in place, her gaze fixed on the child that wasn't ours—or was supposed to be. The other baby, Liam, slept soundly in Rachel's arms on the threshold. What about the baby in the crib? He was awake. And he knew things. Things he shouldn't know.
"You made a deal," the boy said softl
