Chapter 19

Amara pov

Amara's thoughts drifted back to the day everything changed—the day her twins were born.

She remembered the relief washing over her when Lenna was finally delivered, her cries filling the room. Amara smiled through the exhaustion, thankful the pain was over. But just as she thought it was done, another wave of pain hit her two minutes later, sharp and unexpected. The doctors' voices became urgent, and before she could fully process what was happening, another tiny cry echoed through the room.

A surprise—a second baby. Her small, unexpected miracle.

Shock painted her face and her husband's as the doctor gently placed the newborn in her arms. Their other children, wide-eyed with curiosity, had expected one new sibling—but now, there were two. Amara gazed at the tiny child who curled against her chest, her jet-black hair a mirror of Amara's own. Unlike Lenna, this baby didn't open her eyes—she just snuggled closer, content and quiet.

When Amara turned to her husband, she saw him cradling their other newborn. This one was wide awake, her dark, curious eyes scanning the room. She shared the same black hair as her sister and mother, but her eyes—those were her father's. Sharp and intense, like their other children's.

They had already chosen the name Lenna for their firstborn twin. Amara's husband turned to her, a rare softness in his expression. "Why don't you choose a name for our surprise bundle of joy?" he asked, his voice warm.

Amara smiled softly, brushing her fingertip along the baby's tiny nose. The baby stirred, her eyes fluttering open—a deep, dark brown, just like Amara's own. Her heart swelled with love. "Your name is Amiriah," she whispered, kissing her daughter's forehead.

Her husband chuckled quietly. "She's a mini you," he said, his lips curling into a rare smile.

Those memories were bittersweet now. Tears welled up in Amara's eyes as she thought of how close the twins had been. Amiriah had idolized her from the start—dragging Lenna everywhere with her, making their older siblings play along with her games. For a while, it felt perfect.

But everything changed when the twins started school.

Lenna thrived—understanding lessons quickly, making friends effortlessly. Amiriah struggled. She found it harder to grasp things and fit in, and the distance between the sisters grew. The fights started—small at first—until Amiriah began pulling away completely. Amara thought giving the twins separate rooms might help, letting them have their own space. She had hoped it would ease the tension, but it only seemed to deepen the divide.

For a while, it seemed like things were getting better—until the night Lenna came home covered in blood.

3rd person pov

At first, they thought an enemy had targeted their family. But when Lenna, through tears, said it was Amiriah who had hurt her—my world shattered. Amara couldn't comprehend it and kept repeating. my baby, her sweet girl, had nearly killed her own twin.

Disgust and disappointment twisted in her chest as her husband and older children rushed upstairs. They burst into Amiriah's room, demanding answers. Her husband's voice was cold and sharp as he asked, "Why would you do this to your own flesh and blood?"

Amiriah had fallen to her knees, crying, begging. "It wasn't me! It was someone else—I didn't do it!" But no one believed her.

The sound of a sharp slap echoed through the air, snapping Amara out of her stunned silence. She rushed past her family, horrified to see Amiriah clutching her face in shock. Even her husband seemed surprised by what he had done, though his face remained cold and unreadable.

Amara tried to touch her daughter's face, but Amiriah flinched away—tears streaking her cheeks as she ran to the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

Hours passed, and Amiriah never came out. Worry gnawed at Amara's heart until she couldn't take it anymore. She went upstairs alone, softly knocking on the bathroom door. "Riah, please... it's just Mama. Open the door, baby."

Silence.

Panic seized her. She ran to her reading room to grab the spare key, her hands trembling as she unlocked the door.

What she saw inside would haunt her forever.

Amiriah lay on the floor, clawing at her own neck, blood staining her skin. Amara screamed, falling to her knees as she tried to stop her daughter from hurting herself. Her husband and children rushed in, frozen in the doorway at the horrific sight. "Call the doctor—someone do something!" Amara cried desperately.

Her husband was the first to move, dialing the family doctor with steady hands. Lenna sobbed while the other children stood pale and shaken. Hayden quietly led the younger ones away, shielding them from the chaos.

When the doctor arrived, he sedated Amiriah and restrained her to the bed. The sight of her baby tied down shattered Amara's heart. Rage boiled over as she turned on her husband, slamming her fists against his chest. "This is your fault! You pushed her too hard—and you hit her! She's sensitive, Xavier! She's not like the others, and you knew that!" Her voice cracked under the weight of her grief.

Xavier caught her wrists, his face grim but calm. "Amara, breathe," he said quietly. "We've known she was unstable since she was twelve—but you kept pretending everything was fine. I tried to let it go—but this? She almost killed her sister. She needs real help, Amara."

Tears blurred her vision as she listened to his words—words she knew were true. No matter how much it hurt, Amiriah couldn't stay. Not like this.

"I called Grams Hospital," Xavier continued. "It's the best place for her. She leaves in a few hours."

Amara didn't remember falling asleep, but when she woke up in her bed, her heart pounded with fear. She ran to Amiriah's room, but it was empty. Panic gripped her as she stumbled downstairs to find the family sitting in the lounge. Lenna was still crying, while the others tried to convince themselves it was for the best.

But for Amara, nothing about it felt right.

She never got to say goodbye.

And now, her baby was gone—sent to a city far away, out of her reach.

Shaking her head, Amara pulled herself from the memory and stood up from Amiriah's bed. The ache in her heart was as raw as it had been that day. She walked out of the room, leaving the sadness behind—at least, for now.

In the hallway, her daughter-in-law, Yara, stood waiting. Her hands rested gently on her swollen belly, six months pregnant with the next generation of the Spellman family.

Yara offered a soft smile. "Even though she's gone, Amiriah left us with a blessing—a healthy baby girl," she said, her voice full of warmth and hope.

Amara's heart ached as she placed a hand over Yara's. Perhaps, in this new life, there was a chance for healing—a chance to hold on to the love Amiriah had left behind.