Isabella’s smile faltered. “Oh. Well. That’s... that’s okay. Maybe next time.”
“They’re just tired,” Serena said apologetically. “Long day.”
But I knew better. Kids know. They always know. They can sense things that adults miss, can feel the wrongness in people that years of social conditioning have taught the rest of us to ignore.
My children didn’t trust Isabella Crane, and neither did I.
6
— • —
Lina
I blinked in the darkness, confused and disoriented as my brain struggled to process what the hell had woken me up.
My stomach hurt. Not a little uncomfortable ache but a real, genuine, doubled over pain that made me groan as I grabbed my belly with both hands. The room was dark and quiet around me, nothing but shadows and the soft hum of the house settling, but the pain in my abdomen was sharp enough to cut through the fog of sleep.
Was that what woke me? Shit. Was it the baby?
Panic clawed at my throat as I tried to breathe in and out, tried to focus past the discomfort and figure out exactly what in my belly was hurting. I pressed my hands against different spots, testing, probing, trying to isolate the source of the pain. It seemed to behigher up, more in my actual stomach than lower down where the baby was nestled.
Not the baby. Just my stomach. Maybe the cupcakes from earlier had finally caught up with me.
I breathed out in relief, my racing heart slowing slightly as I patted the bed next to me to wake Knox. He’d know what to do. He always knew what to do, even when I was panicking over nothing at three in the morning.
But my hand found cold sheets and empty space.
I scowled and groaned as I turned over, expecting to see him standing by the window or maybe sitting in the chair in the corner. He did that sometimes when he couldn’t sleep. Just sat there in the dark and watched me, which should have been creepy but somehow wasn’t.
He wasn’t there. The chair was empty. The window was closed. The bathroom door stood open, revealing nothing but darkness inside.
Where was he?
Another cramp seized my stomach and I curled into myself, breathing through the pain. When it passed, I forced myself to think. Knox sometimes had nightmares. Bad ones. Dreams about the rogue attack that had killed Blake all those years ago. Dreams about me or the twins being in danger, about being too late to save us, about finding our bodies in the woods. On those nights he’d get up and go outside, run through the forest until his lungs burned and his muscles screamed, trying to exhaust himself enough to sleep without dreaming.
But he always left a note. Always. Even if he was just going downstairs for water, he’d scribble something on a piece of paper and leave it on his pillow so I wouldn’t worry.
There was no note on his pillow now.
I groaned as another cramp hit my stomach, sharper this time. Shit, that fucking hurt. Whatever I’d eaten earlier was staging a full rebellion against my digestive system.
I forced myself to get up, my legs shaky and unsteady beneath me. The room spun for a second before settling, and I had to grab the nightstand to keep from falling. Stomach cramps in the middle of the night while heavily pregnant. This was not how I’d planned to spend my evening.
That’s when I heard it. The sound that must have woken me up in the first place.
The doorbell.
I froze, listening. Who the hell was ringing my doorbell at-? I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 3:17 AM. Nobody came to visit at 3:17 AM with good news. Nobody rang doorbells at this hour unless there was an emergency or unless they were trying to cause one.
I moved slowly out of our bedroom, pausing in the hallway to listen for the twins. Their soft snoring drifted through their partially open door, the familiar sound of my children sleeping peacefully. Safe. They were safe. I needed to keep them that way.
The stairs seemed to stretch on forever as I made my way down, one hand on the railing and the other pressed against mycramping stomach. Every few steps I had to stop and double over, the pain making it hard to move at any real speed. Whoever was at the door was just going to have to wait.
I wasn’t making any effort to keep Knox out of what I was feeling. Usually I tried to mute the bond a little, not wanting to worry him with every minor ache and discomfort. But right now I left it wide open, letting every cramp and spike of fear flow through to him. He would feel it. He would come.
He was probably already on his way.
Just as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I remembered my phone. It was still on the nightstand upstairs, charging where I’d left it before bed. I needed it. I should go back and get it, call Knox or Noah or someone who could help.
