For illustrative purposes only
Three days later, there was a knock at my door.
Two police officers stood outside.
“Are you…?” one of them asked, carefully saying my name.
My stomach dropped.
They showed me a photo.
Elena.
My blood ran cold.
“What happened?” I whispered.
The officer’s expression softened.
“She’s alive,” he said quickly. “There was an accident. Early morning. She’ll recover, but she needs time.”
Relief made my knees feel weak.
“Why… why are you here?”
They exchanged a look before handing me a sealed envelope.
“She listed you as her emergency contact.”
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside was a short note, written in her familiar handwriting.
“I have no one else I trust with my babies. Please.”
I stared at the words, my heart racing.
No one else.
Out of everyone… she chose me.
Two hours later, I was on a train with a small bag and a thousand thoughts racing through my mind.
When I walked into her hospital room, she looked smaller somehow. Pale. Fragile. But when her eyes met mine—
She broke.
Tears streamed down her face as she reached for me.
“You came,” she whispered, her voice shaking.
“Of course I did,” I said, taking her hand.
That was the first time I truly understood how alone she had been.
And maybe… how much she had trusted me all along.
I took Luca and Mira home with me.
For three weeks, my life became theirs again—early mornings, bedtime stories, soft lullabies in the dark. But this time, it felt different.
Heavier.
More meaningful.
Because now I knew.
The police had told me.
