Now, their faces were soft. Their breathing even.
They looked… safe.
His jaw tightened.
“Lena,” he said quietly.
She didn’t move.
“Lena,” he repeated, firmer this time.
Her eyes fluttered open.
The moment she saw him standing there, fully awake now, her body tensed. She scrambled upright, careful not to jostle the twins, panic flooding her face.
“Oh—Mr. Whitmore—I’m so sorry,” she whispered urgently. “I didn’t mean to—please don’t fire me. They were crying and the nurse—she didn’t come when I called, and I tried to put them back in their cribs but they wouldn’t settle and I—I just laid down for a moment, I swear.”
Her words spilled over each other, fear thick in her voice.
Ethan held up a hand.
“Stop.”
She fell silent instantly.
He gestured toward the babies. “Explain.”
Lena swallowed.
“I was cleaning upstairs,” she said softly. “I heard them crying. At first, I thought the monitor was on and the nurse would come. But the crying didn’t stop.”
She glanced down at the twins, her expression changing—softening.
“I went into the nursery. The nurse wasn’t there. I tried rocking them. One calmed down, but the other kept crying. So I held both of them. I sang to them. Just… quietly.”
Ethan noticed then that her voice, even now, was gentle.
“They fell asleep,” she continued. “I didn’t want to wake them by carrying them back upstairs. I thought… just a few minutes.”
Her eyes flicked up to him, filled with dread.
“I must have fallen asleep.”
