Chapter 10

Kathryn’s POV

Exam week is over, and I personally think I did well in most of my subjects. 

It was already dark when I decided to go home from school. While I walk in silence, I can’t shake Roland’s words out of my mind, even though I know to myself that I should be focusing on my exam results instead.

I didn’t doubt for one second that Roland would’ve taken good care of me and my children like they were his own blood. But I still couldn’t drag him into my life; not when it’s meant to be this messy from the start. I regret that even now, Wilhelm’s subtle smile when we first met has always cast a shadow on Roland’s face whenever he stares right back at me. 

Even though my now ex-husband was already so far away from me, his memories were a shadow that never left my side. 

A tall man in a dark hoodie leaned his entire body on the lamppost, his head tracking my movements as I turned into a dark alley. I couldn’t quite see his face, but my heart raced when I sensed his presence drawing nearer. 

Is he… following me?

Instinctively, I quickened my pace, and the man mirrored my movements, confirming my suspicion that he was indeed trailing behind me. Panic surged within me as my hands fumbled in my pockets, desperate to reach my phone just in case things took a turn for the worse. The weight of my twins pressed against me as I struggled to practically run away from the ominous figure behind me.

Before I could even shout for help, I slipped and crashed onto the pavement. 

Managing to pull myself up, I felt a warm liquid trickling down my pants. As I reached to investigate, I realized it was blood.

“Oh, my God,” I gasped, my breaths coming fast as I scanned the area for assistance. “Please, help! My babies—”

Strong hands gripped my shoulders. “I’ll take you to the—”

I didn’t catch the rest of the sentence as darkness enveloped me.

The next time I regained consciousness, a woman stood beside me, her brow furrowed in concern. I struggled to focus on her face as she hastily donned a surgical mask upon realizing I was waking up.

The woman, whom I presumed to be the resident doctor, inclined her head close to my face. “How are you feeling, madame?”

My eyes fluttered shut as a burning cramp seized my belly, causing me to moan in agony.

“My babies,” I murmured in a daze, “oh, it hurts!” I managed to say as another pain shot right through my stomach. 

The doctor nodded to the person beside me, who began to wheel me away. “We need to proceed with an emergency cesarean section. It’s imperative that we deliver the babies immediately.”

“Do whatever needs to be done,” I heard someone say beside me as I drifted in and out of consciousness, the world fading in and out like a flickering light.

Before I knew it, I was in a hospital gown, effortlessly transferred onto a hospital bed while an oxygen mask was placed over my mouth and nose. A machine beeped nearby, its rhythm a steady reminder of the urgency of the situation. I focused on it as someone adjusted my position and administered what I assumed to be anesthesia through my spine.

Within less than an hour, several faces surrounded me in the dimly lit room. The doctor gazed at me with an apologetic expression before issuing instructions to the nurse beside her.

Somehow, I felt a sense of déjà vu when I looked at her. Perhaps we had crossed paths before, maybe even back in the United States. My memories of those times were growing hazy until she lowered her mask slightly.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Reinhardt,” the doctor muttered before gently closing my eyes, and I slipped into oblivion, the safety of my children lingering at the back of my mind.

My eyes slowly drifted open, and I realized I was in a well-lit room, greeted by the familiar scent of bleach and antiseptics. Confusion clouded my thoughts as I struggled to remember where I was.

“Oh, you’re awake,” a faint voice beside me broke through my haze. I attempted to recall what had transpired, and why I suddenly found myself lying on a hospital bed without remembering why I got here in the first place. 

Forcing myself to sit upright, a pang of discomfort flared in my belly. 

“Here madame, let me help you,” the nurse was quick to assist me, and I thanked her when I was finally propped on a nice pillow, taking in my surroundings. 

I turned my head, drawn by a whimpering sound, and saw a crib placed nearby. Tears welled in my eyes as I beheld my baby daughter for the first time after months of carrying her.

“Félicitations, madame,” the nurse chimed in. “You have a healthy baby girl!”

“Yes, she’s wonderful,” I whispered as a tender feeling seeped into my heart, promising myself that I would protect and raise her the best way that I could from here on after. Extending my hand to touch her delicate fingers, I looked at the empty space beside her. “Where’s my son?”

The nurse’s bright face suddenly fell. “Madame, I’m so sorry, but your son didn’t make it.” 

I never knew real pain until I heard the words that came out of her mouth.