My wife’s passing days after she gave birth to our twin boys shattered my world into a million pieces. I thought I had everything, a loving wife, a multimillion home, our boys on the way, but her death changed everything.
Seraphina was an internationally acclaimed cellist and a woman every man would like to have by his side. She was perfectly healthy, and her passing was a result of what doctors called a “postpartum complication.”
I was left to take care of our boys, Leo and Noah, in a $50-million glass mansion in Seattle, and with a grief nothing could ever erase.
Noah was strong and healthy. Leo wasn’t. He needed more help than I could ever provide for him, so I hired a nanny to be around the twins most of the time.
My sister-in-law, Beatrice, accused me of not doing enough for Leo, that it was my fault he wasn’t as strong as his brother. He claimed I was emotionally distant and that the boys needed a “proper family environment.” The truth was that all she ever wanted was for me to sign over guardianship so she could control the Thorne Trust. And that was something I would never allow, no matter how hard things were.
Beatrice despised the twins’ nanny, Elena, and wouldn’t stop saying that she wasn’t good enough to take care of the boys, that she was too young, and not interested in giving them what they needed.
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“She’s lazy,” Beatrice murmured one evening at dinner. “I saw her sitting in the dark for hours doing nothing. Who knows—maybe she’s stealing Seraphina’s jewelry while you’re gone. You should keep an eye on her.”
I don’t know why, but I started questioning Elena’s competencies, too. Maybe it was the grief, or maybe I just wanted to do what Beatrice wanted me to so I wouldn’t listen her complain again. So, I spent $100,000 on the most advanced infrared surveillance system money could buy.
Weeks passed, and I forgot to check the footage and see what the nanny was really doing while I wasn’t home. What I saw turned my life upside down.
I opened the encrypted feed on my tablet, and honestly, expected Elena to be asleep, but instead, she was sat on the floor at the nursery room and was cradling the cribs. I could hear her sing a song Seraphina made up for when the twins would be born. No one else knew that song, no one.
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Then the nursery door slowly creaked open.
Beatrice stepped inside, and she wasn’t there to check on her nephews. She had a small silver dropped in her hand and started moving straight to Noah’s crib, the healthy twin, and began squeezing a clear liquid into his bottle.
Elena rose to her feet and yelled at Beatrice.
“Stop, Beatrice. I switched the bottles already. You’re giving him water. The sedative you’ve been using on Leo to make him appear ‘ill’? I found the vial in your vanity yesterday.”
I sat there motionless and couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“You’re just a maid,” Beatrice yelled back. “No one will believe you. Alistair thinks Leo is deteriorating because of ‘bad genes.’ Once he’s declared unfit, the boys and the estate are mine—and you’ll be back where you belong.”
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“I’m not just a maid,” Elena replied. “I was the student nurse on duty the night Seraphina died. I was the one she told the truth to before her heart gave out.”
“She told me you tampered with her IV,” Elena said. “She knew you wanted the Thorne name. Before she died, she made me promise to find her sons. I spent a lot of time just to get into this house and protect them from you.”
I didn’t hesitate and was down the hall in seconds, bursting into the nursery as Beatrice raised her hand on Elena.
“The cameras are recording,” I said. “And the police are already on their way.”
Once Beatrice was taken away, I spoke to Elena. She explained that Seraphina was aware of her sister’s jealousy and knew she would try to hurt her children.
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I started crying. My wife was gone but she still found a way to protect her children, and that’s when I knew that mother’s love never dies, even if she does.
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