Chapter 105 Chapter 105
Maxwell
Breakfast was already halfway through when Ayla suddenly looked up from her plate. “Dad?”
I glanced at her. “Yes?”
She hesitated for a moment before asking, “When are we going to see Mom again?” The other girls immediately looked up.
“And Grandma and Grandpa,” Ayla added softly. “We miss them terribly.” Amira leaned back slightly in her chair. “Yeah, not seeing them for this long feels strange.”
She paused before adding bluntly, “It almost feels like we have been kidnapped again, just with a lot of freedom.” Alina snorted softly at that, while Amara nodded in agreement.
These kids at times ask questions or say something that makes me marvel at their level of thought. I exchanged a brief look with my mother across the table. She raised an eyebrow slightly but said nothing.
The girls were watching me now, waiting for an answer. I set my cup down slowly. “You haven’t been kidnapped,” I said calmly.
Amira shrugged. “It kind of feels like it.”
Ayla nodded again. “We just want to see them.”
For a moment, the table went quiet. I glanced at my mother again. She gave me a small look that said everything she didn’t say aloud.
I looked back at the girls. “You will see your mom soon,” I said.
Their faces lit up almost immediately. “And Grandma and Grandpa too?” Alina asked.
“Yes,” I said with a nod. The girls exchanged excited looks with each other. Across the table, my mother met my gaze again , this time the look between us was heavier.
Breakfast was over, and I was sitting in the living room, finishing my coffee, letting the quiet stretch around me. That calm didn’t last long. My phone buzzed—it was a call from security.
I answered immediately. “What is it?”
“There’s a couple at the gate, sir,” the guard said. “They claim to be Mrs. Sinclair’s parents and say they want to see her.”
I felt my jaw tighten. Anger coiled low in my chest after everything that had happened, the girls getting kidnapped, the thought of these people showing up now made my blood boil.
“Turn them away. Do not let them in,” I said, voice cold.
“Yes, sir,” the guard replied, and I ended the call, slamming the phone down.
Before I could even take a breath, a maid came running down the stairs, a wet towel in her hands. “Sir,” she said, out of breath, “Mrs Sinclair is awake.”
I didn’t wait another second. Coffee forgotten, I bolted up the stairs, my heart hammering, every thought focused on her.
I ran up the stairs two at a time, heart hammering, only to find a nurse already in Amelia’s room, checking her carefully.
I didn’t hesitate, I rushed to her side. The nurse stepped back immediately, excusing herself. “I will leave you two alone now,” she said, retreating quickly.
Amelia’s fingers found mine first. She held my hand tightly, and I squeezed it back, my chest tightening. “I’m glad you survived,” I whispered.
She tried to speak, but her voice was hoarse, barely more than a rasp. “…the kids?”
“They are fine, they are back home safe and sound and have been yearning to see you.” I said firmly. “I promised they would see you soon, I never knew it would be this soon.”
A flicker of relief crossed her face. Then she looked at me with longing. “I want to see them right now,” she said, trying to push herself up.
I placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, gently but firmly. “Amelia, you just woke up. You need to calm down first, rest a little before moving.”
Amelia shook her head, her grip on my hand tightening. “I need to see them,” she insisted. “I have slept for too long already.”
I tried to reason with her, my voice calm but firm. “Amelia, you just woke up. You need to rest a little longer before—”
“No,” she cut me off, her eyes blazing. “Let me meet them, or I will go find them myself. Are you hiding something from me?”
I shook my head slowly. I couldn’t let her know the truth yet—not the heartbreak of one of the girls being gone. I wouldn’t let her break down again. “I’m not hiding anything,” I said firmly.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed my mother. “Bring the girls upstairs,” I instructed, my tone clipped but controlled. “Their mom is awake.”
After the call, Amelia exhaled slowly, relief washing over her face. She looked up at me, her eyes pleading. “Help me sit up,” she whispered.
I shifted closer and gently helped her into a more comfortable position. She leaned back against the pillows, still fragile but steadying herself.
Not long after, the door burst open. Four small voices rang out in unison. “Mom! Mom is awake!”
The girls charged in, laughter and excitement bubbling over. They barreled toward her, throwing themselves into her arms. I had to step forward, raising my voice slightly. “Careful! Don’t hug her too tight!”
Amelia laughed softly, patting their backs, her smile radiant and relieved. She looked at them, her eyes full of love and then her gaze shifted to me.
Her expression changed slightly, and her voice softened, almost hesitantly. “They are not complete,” she said. Her eyes searched mine. “Where is Aria?”
The room froze instantly. The laughter and chatter evaporated, the girls froze mid-hug, their wide eyes flicking between us.