ALEX.
The mansion felt wrong without the kids. It wasn’t just the silence, I had grown used to quiet places, but the absence of their laughter, the thud of their feet racing down hallways, the way their voices echoed even after they had gone to bed. Everywhere I turned, there were traces of them. A stray mitten on the console table. Glitter stuck stubbornly to the edge of the carpet. A half-finished ornament drying by the window.
I missed them more than I expected. And with that realization came another, heavier one. Without the twins in the house, my purpose here was technically over.
The contract had been for the children. For their Christmas. With them gone, I had no real reason to stay, and that meant I would be leaving sooner than planned. The thought lodged painfully in my chest.
