MasukGENESIS “Mija, please calm down and listen to me,” my mom said, her voice soft but firm through the phone. “Respira, mi amor. Respira hondo.”I couldn’t breathe. My heart was slamming so hard I thought it would crack my ribs. My eyes were blurry from the tears rushing down my cheeks in hot, endless streams. All I could think was: **this cannot be happening*. Not after everything. Not fter the the pain I’d clawed through to finally have peace. The happiness I’d bled for. The family. The twins. Kieran. The universe couldn’t be that cruel. It couldn’t take him from me now.“I’m on my way to the hospital,” Mom said, “but I need you to tell me, did the doctor say his reaction was to your presence? Because that’s completely ridiculous if I’m to say.”“Yes, it was ridiculous,” I choked out, wiping my face with my sleeve. “But I can’t deny the pattern. It’s right there. Every time I walk in… he crashes. Every time I leave… he stabilizes. They’re going to test it. With me in the room. Wit
GENESIS POV“I assure you, Mrs. Blackwood,” the doctor said, flipping through the chart one last time before closing it with a soft snap, “this is nothing more than the flu that’s been going around. His vitals are stable, no signs of pneumonia or secondary infection. The vomiting was most likely from the high fever and dehydration—he’s not keeping anything down, so his stomach is rebelling. We’ve given him fluids here, and as long as he stays hydrated at home, he should turn the corner in a few days.”I stared at him, arms crossed tight over my chest like I could physically hold myself together.“Are you sure that's all, he was shaking pretty bad?” I pressed.The doctor sighed exasperated, but not unkind. He leaned back against the counter in the small exam room.“High fevers in adults can cause rigors, shaking chills. It’s the body’s way of trying to raise its temperature even higher to kill the virus. The vomiting is common with sudden spikes. He’s not eating, not drinking enough, s
GENESISThe day Kieran fell ill was the worst week of my life. I was sure I was losing my mind. The first day I thought it was just a cold.“Baby please eat something,” I said, bringing the spoonful of soup to his lips.He was propped up against the headboard, skin pale and clammy, eyes half-lidded like even keeping them open took effort. He managed a weak smile, the kind that usually made my knees weak, but today it just broke my heart.“I’m fine, princess,” he rasped, voice rough and low. “You can go to work. I’ll sleep it off.”I stared at him.Go to work?Leave him like this, burning up, barely able to sit up without swaying?“How can I go to work and leave you?” My voice cracked before I could stop it. “Kieran, look at you. You can barely hold your head up.”He tried to laugh, it turned into a cough that rattled his chest.“I’ve had worse. It’s just a bug.”I shook my head, tears already stinging.“Please. Just… eat a little. For me.”I brought the spoon back to his lips again, g
GENESIS“Yeah, go ahead,” Zarina said, wiping her hands on her apron with a grin. “We’ll close up. Go get your little monsters.”I looked between them, Cady already stacking the last trays, Zarina double-checking the register and shook my head, throat suddenly tight.“What am I going to do without you guys?” I said softly.Cady rolled her eyes, but her smile was warm. “You’ll survive. You’ve survived worse than us closing shop by ourselves.”Zarina walked over and pulled me into a one handed hug. “You’re not abandoning us. You’re just being a mom. We’ve got this.”I hugged her back, then reached for Cady. She squeezed me tight before letting go.“See you tomorrow,” “Come early this timd,” Zarina called after me. “Or we’re eating your share of tomorrow’s test batch.”I laughed, waved once more, and stepped out into the late-afternoon sun.I slid into the car, started the engine, and the radio came on mid-song ,Vanessa Carlton, that old, nostalgic one.I turned it up.The windows were
GENESIS I was in the kitchen, zipping up the last lunch box, three identical ones lined up on the counter like little soldiers when Izzy’s voice hit decibel levels that should be illegal before 8 a.m.“MOMMMMMM, DASH IS YANKING ON MY PONYTAIL!”I winced, fingers freezing on the zipper.“Sweetheart,” I called over my shoulder, keeping my tone even, “you don’t need to yell. I’m right here.”“But he’s pulling it!”I turned.There they were both of them in their booster seats at the dining table, Izzy’s face flushed pink with righteous fury, ponytail half-undone, Dash looking calm and innocent with a fistful of pink elastic in his hand.“Dash, baby,” I said, walking over, “let go of your sister’s hair.”He blinked up at me with those big, green eyes that were pure Kieran when he was scheming.“She took my smiley pancake.”“No I did NOT!” Izzy shrieked, twisting to glare at him.“You did too! It was the one with the biggest smile!”“It was MY smiley face!”I sighed, the kind of sigh that
GENESISOne year later“Dash, look at Mommy. Look over here, sweet boy.”I crouched in front of the massive Thanksgiving tree (yes, we kept the Christmas tree up year-round now because Daisy insisted it was “the family tree”), camera raised, trying and failing to get the perfect shot.Dashiell gave me his signature calm, soulful stare, big green eyes blinking slowly, while Isabella (Izzy) was… being Izzy.She was currently latched onto the back of Kieran’s head like a feral baby monkey, chubby fists buried deep in his hair, yanking with gleeful determination. Kieran, on his knees in front of the tree, still in his black sweater and jeans was trying (and failing) to negotiate with a one-year-old terrorist.“Izzy, baby girl, Daddy needs his scalp to stay attached,” he pleaded, voice half in pain, that girl had a strong grip. “Let go, princess. Please.”Isabella giggled high, wicked instead and tugged harder.It was clear who she took after.“Mtelle!” she squealed at her cousin, who sat







