“Oh? Same birthday?”
“Uh-uh. My mama couldn’t hold me in her womb so Tía Gili did it,” Vivien explained. “We have different mommies and daddies so we’re cousins, but we’re still twins because we grew together and were born together.”
Joaquin was impressed by the science, the startlingly selfless act by one sister for another, and the fact these girls had a grasp on what made them unique.
“Finally, Maya and Sofia, Ramon and Izzy’s twins.” Siobhan stretched her arms to hug the last pair together, too, eyes sheening with fresh tears before she closed them. “Maya and Sofia are five, same as the cousin-twins.”
“We thought they were the last batch in the oven, then we got the big news,” Cinnia said.
Joaquin snapped a look to Siobhan. Had she told her sister?
“That’s right. Two are missing!” Siobhan tucked her fists on her hips and pretended to search around her feet. “Lettie?”
“I tried to take them yesterday, to play house,” Colette said. “Mama said no.”
“Aren’t you the killjoy,” Siobhan teased Cinnia.
“I know, right?”
“We’ll meet Gili and Kasim’s twins later. Thank you for using your best manners.” Siobhan clapped her hands. “Go back to what you were doing. We’ll play hide-and-seek after dinner if you want to.”
“Yes!” The children raced up the stairs.
Siobhan kept a smile on her face as they left, but it hardened and cracked when Cinnia wrapped her arm around her waist.
“See? They just wanted you here. We all do. You’re shaking.” Cinnia drew back to look at her, gaze widening in alarm.
“I’m fine.” Siobhan brushed her off.
Joaquin saw how pale she was and clasped her cold hand.
“We had a late night at my company Christmas party,” he lied. They’d actually left early, but Cinnia didn’t need to know that. “Do you mind if we freshen up before we meet everyone else?”
Siobhan thought she was doing a credible job of keeping her emotions in check. She wasn’t even sure why she was having such a rattled reaction. The children were all safe and healthy and happy. Their hugs always filled up spaces inside her that she wasn’t aware had run empty.
But the whole time she’d been greeting them, she’d been suffering a growing sense of doom. Of failure. Guilt.
She brought Joaquin into the mini-suite that had been hers since moving here ten years ago. Cinnia had had it freshened up when Siobhan had left for London to live with Ramon and Izzy, so it was now a more neutral green instead of mauve. The hard-used computer desk and worn-in love seat had been replaced with sleek, comfortable new ones. The top quilt on the bed was no longer printed with periodic symbols. The bedding had been converted to the standard Sauveterre issue of blue with a yellow stripe.
It was still “Dorry’s room,” though. The shelves around the parlor area were stuffed with her old textbooks. The photo of herself with glasses, braces and a big smile, holding the newborn Rosie and Lettie, was still on the night table. The bathroom and walk-in closet were stocked with a selection of her favorite cosmetics and clothes.
Joaquin’s things were already hanging in there, she noticed with a small double-take. That was weird, but nice.
“If you need anything, the house phone connects to the kitchen.” She pointed to the cordless extension on the desk. “They relay messages to the drivers or security or whoever you’re looking for. The doors to the balcony stick in winter. I’ll show you how to do it.” She swept the drapes away from the glass and unlatched the lock.
“Siobhan.” Joaquin turned her and wrapped his arms around her in a hug that was tight enough to immobilize her. He ran his hands over her, smoothing all the fraying threads coming off her. “Catch your breath.”
A tiny sob escaped her. She clutched at him. How had he known?
“I don’t know why I’m upset,” she said in frustration. “I love them so much and I want to be here, but…”
He didn’t say anything, only closed his arms tighter around her, tucking her head into the hollow of his shoulder as though sheltering her from danger.
“You’re right,” she admitted in a strained voice as angry heat rose behind her breastbone. “I hate her.”
“Who?” He lifted his head to look down on her, gaze sparking with battle readiness.
“Dorry.” The scalding sensation traveled from behind her heart up to her throat. “I don’t want to be her. She’s thoughtless and naive and stupid. She doesn’t deserve to be loved by all of those children who trust her. But I have to be her to behere.” She brushed at a tickle on her cheek and realized it was a tear. “God, I’m pathetic.”
