Everything fades as Vincent and I observe each other in silence. Did he follow me? Why is he smiling so much like he won a lottery? That same sickening smile that was on his face that day in the elevator is present. I flex my fingers to remind him what can happen if he makes the wrong move and he arches a brow as if telling me to try. He tips the bottle of wine to empty the content into his glass and takes a long sip.After another sip, I throw caution to the wind and ask, “What do you know about Sofie?”Vincent spits out his drink, leaving a red stain on the tablecloth. He recovers quickly and lowers his glass. A smirk curves his lips, chills race down my back and my spine stiffens. My hand tightens around the handle of my briefcase sitting at my feet, I force my breathing under control and level him a stern look. He can’t do shit. I beat him once, I will do it again.“If I were you, I would be more worried about the things

Over the week, the weather worsens, so does my mood. Christmas and New year passes without El. The blizzard caused some road damages, travelling was put on hold. Maybe it’s a sign. Every time El and I plan to get back together, the universe responds with something beyond our control. It has to be a sign. We are not meant for each other.I shove a handful of popcorn into my mouth as Wyn flips the channel. I am not sure what is on but I have been sentenced to watching cartoons with them. The current cartoon has a pink panther as the main lead. Bren dips her hand into my bowl of popcorn, ignoring the untouched bowl between her and her sister. I don’t know why they do that. Make me get popcorn for all three of us and eat only from mine. The panther darts across the screen, I prop my legs on the coffee table and push the bowl to Bren’s laps. The light from the television illuminates her face and I catch the scowl directed at

Vincent drops his pen to the table cluttered with files. His receptionist notified him of my presence yet he appears ruffled. I take another step inside his office and drop to the chair without an invitation. We don’t speak.I glance at the window overlooking the tall buildings and skyscrapers in one row. There is a pot of flowers on the windowsill. I smile at it. El has one of those for putting the flowers I send her. A familiar heaviness presses against my chest, my fingers trail the edge of his wooden desk and I exhale a soft, quick breath.“Took you long enough,” Vincent finally says. The longer I stare, the less he looks like her. All I see are black, bitter eyes that are nothing like Nicole’s. She never mentioned a brother. She never mentioned a sibling. She didn’t like discussing her family. I didn’t like talking about mine so I was fine with that. I pick a pencil from his desk and spin it in a circle

Getting coherent words out of El proves impossible. All she does is cry until someone else collects the phone from her. I press my knuckles to my forehead as the new voice comes on. A man. I start pacing.  The man’s voice is familiar but I can’t place it. He says something. Something about my little girls and an accident on the frozen lake in the park. A gasp locks in my throat, I grip the edge of the sink until my knuckles turn white. My eyes sting with tears. No. I shake my head. I don’t want to hear the rest of it.  But he won’t stop talking. He won’t stop with his bad news. She’s in ICU. The doctors are doing the best they can. I have to get there. Eyes shut tight, I release my breath slowly, too scared to ask any question.  She. Who? My feet move before my brain processes anything. I grab my keys and rush to the garage. Everything is a blur as I struggle to open the door of the car and get inside. My arms tremble violently as my ha

“Should we sing for her?” Wyn asks.  We are in Bren’s room, by her bedside. I rest my jaw on Wyn’s hair and slide my arms around her waist. “Don’t do anything.” The little minion lodged between my legs groans. “You can talk to her later,” I say. Wyn sandwiches her sister’s hand between hers, she doesn’t sing, she doesn’t talk. Seconds pass, I leave both of them to do what twins do and make myself comfortable on the couch across the room. I sniff my armpit and make a face. I need a fucking bath, food too but I am not leaving until my princess wakes.  The ceiling is plain, same as the grey walls. Sad, dull and boring. I push myself into a sitting position. Wyn is whispering something to her sister. It must have been funny because she giggles and a smile springs to my lips. I am not sure staying here is good for her. But she looks happy as she caresses her twin’s cheek.  I should attend to my missed calls and check on Brianna but I want to