Page 135 of Dual
“I do, actually,” my sister says stubbornly.
She’ll come back. She always comes back. But the endless self-assurances don’t ring as true as they once did. Every day she’s gone, it feels more and more like the string holding us together is closer to snapping.
I zone out as everyone plays with the baby and makes small talk. Fine with me. As much as I resentfully appreciate their company, I can’t be anything more than the brooding statue in the corner. Half here, half gone.
I interact when they ask things of me, but barely remember it the next second. My life now doesn’t seem real.
I try to make an effort for Moira’s sake since I know I was such a shit to her all year.
“You look... good, Moira.”
She blinks like she’s surprised. “Uh, thanks?”
“I mean it. You seem...” I struggle to find the right word. “Steadier.”
“Meds will do that to a girl,” she quips.
Bane steps closer and takes her hand. I don’t miss how he supports her.
“You’re good for her,” I say to him.
Moira rolls her eyes, but Bane’s voice is quiet but firm, “She’s good for me, too.”
Bane pierces me with his gaze. I know I’m not his favorite person. Moira might let me off the hook for my shit behavior, but he doesn’t. I hold his gaze and nod. I’m not afraid to take accountability for my bullshit.
“Jesus Christ,” Moira exclaims, “just hug it out already so we can order pizza.”
I snort and get up to grab my phone to order the food when the doorbell rings.
We all freeze.
No one rings my doorbell. Ever. The security system should have alerted me to any approach, but when I check the panel, the feed shows nothing but static. My blood turns to ice. This kind of technical failure doesn’t happen by accident. Not with my systems.
Isaak’s already on his feet, Lily passed smoothly to Kira as his hand moves to the weapon at his hip. Good man. She grabs Lily’s car carrier in one hand, Lily pressed to her chest with her other, and scoots down the back hallway out of sight.
“Stay back,” I order, already moving toward the door. “My security feed must be glitching.”
“Like hell,” Moira mutters, but Bane’s arm around her waist keeps her on the couch.
I approach the door carefully, every sense on high alert. It could be enemies from the past finally catching up. Or Feds. Or even another message from her delivered in some cryptic way. It could be?—
I yank the door open, ready for anything.
Except this.
A basket sits on my doorstep like something out of a goddamn fairytale. Wicker and innocent-looking, covered with a soft blue blanket that shifts slightly in the evening breeze.
No. Not the breeze.
My knees hit the concrete before conscious thought catches up. The impact jars through me, but I barely feel it. My hands shake—actually fucking shake—as I reach for the blanket. Some part of me already knows. Some primitive part recognizes what’s under that soft blue fabric before my eyes confirm it.
A baby.
Tiny. Perfect. A shock of black hair dark as mine. And when those eyes blink open? Christ, they’re the exact shade of blue I see in the mirror every morning. My mother’s eyes. My eyes.
The world tilts. Sounds fade. There’s just this: a baby on my doorstep with my eyes and a note pinned to the blanket.
My fingers fumble with the paper, clumsy as a child’s. The words blur, and I have to blink hard to focus.
