200Stella.The paper crane sat on the kitchen counter, its folds precise, almost delicate, but to me, it radiated a quiet menace. I picked it up again, turning it over in my hands. Something about the way it felt, the faint scent of ink and chemicals clinging to the paper, made my stomach twist. I knew Alex would tell me it was a coincidence, that I was reading too much into it. But I could see it in his eyes—he wasn’t calm. He was rattled, and the mask of control he wore so well couldn’t entirely hide it.I set the crane down again, glancing toward the twins’ room. Eli and Emma were still asleep, their soft breathing a fragile counterpoint to the storm of unease swirling through the house. I lingered there for a moment, tracing the outline of their small, peaceful faces with my eyes. They didn’t know how close danger had come, how narrowly we had escaped, and for a brief second, I allowed myself to hope that maybe, just maybe, things were finally quieting down.The next morning, I m
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