(Almira’s POV)
The drive home is silent. The twins sit in the back, holding their new toys. I catch glimpses of them through the rearview mirror—Hazel tracing patterns on the window, Asher staring at his lap, lost in thought. I know their young minds are full of questions, but for once, they don’t ask. Maybe they sense my stormy mood.
My grip tightens around the steering wheel. My mind replays the scene at Lysander’s house over and over. His smug voice. The way he watched me. The way he called them our children.
I want to scream.
He has no right. No right to show up after all these years. No right to buy a house next to us. No right to see the kids and act as if he had ever been there for them.
Yet, the way Hazel looked at him. The way Asher clenched his fists when I pulled them away.
