Todos los capítulos de Twins He Chose Twice : Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

The rain over the city felt heavier now, washing the black ash from Luna’s skin, but it couldn't wash away the bitter cold settled deep inside her chest.She sat under the concrete overhang of a deserted alleyway, pulled deep into the oversized trench coat she had swiped from a clothesline three blocks back. Her boots were gone, leaving her feet wrapped in muddy rags. Her hands, covered in angry red blisters from the fire at St. Jude’s, throbbed with every beat of her heart.Every time she closed her eyes, she heard the roaring flames. She saw Mrs. Harlow’s quiet smile as the ceiling collapsed between them.*Live... don't let them win.*Mrs. Harlow’s last words echoed in the dark alley. Luna squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her forehead against her knees until her teeth clicked together. She wasn't just a girl framed for a crime anymore. She was dead to the world. On paper, her body was lying burned beyond recognition in a cold county morgue.She had thought Marcus was gone, too. The

The flash of the studio camera turned the air blindingly white.Inside the closed set of *The Evening Hour*, the quiet was heavy enough to drop a pin. Millions of screens across the country flickered with the live broadcast as the host adjusted her glasses, leaning forward toward the velvet couch.Ethan sat under the harsh studio lights, immaculate in a dark charcoal suit. His posture was military-rigid, his face smooth, unreadable, and perfectly composed. Beside him sat Aurora. She wore a high-necked navy dress with no jewelry, her dark hair pulled back simply, her eyes swollen just enough to look haunted without losing her fragile beauty.On the wall monitor across from them, the tape from the gala played on a silent loop: the black screen, the leaked audio, the sudden chaos."Mr. Blackwood," the host began, her voice dripping with serious, calculated sympathy. "Forty-eight hours ago, your Annual gala was shattered by a devastating broadcast. The public heard what appeared to be an

The fourth floor of County General Hospital was almost completely silent.It was late at night, and most of the lights in the corridor had been dimmed. The sharp smell of disinfectant hung in the air, mixed with the faint scent of rubbing alcohol. Outside Room 408, two men in dark suits stood on either side of the door, watching the hallway with the kind of attention that made it clear they were not ordinary hospital visitors.Inside the room, everything was quiet.The ventilator breathed for Marcus.The heart monitor gave its steady beep.For weeks, those sounds had been the only proof that he was still there.Nurse Clara pushed her cart into the room and quietly closed the door behind her. She had been working for twelve hours, and exhaustion weighed heavily on her shoulders. Still, she forced herself to focus as she checked the IV bags and glanced at the monitor.Everything looked normal.Heart rate steady.Blood pressure stable.She made a note on her clipboard and moved closer to

The concrete walls of Isolation Unit B-2 kept the outside world entirely at bay. Down here in the sub-basement, there was no sound of distant traffic, no glare of streetlights through window glass, and no hum of high-traffic hospital corridors. The only presence was the rhythmic, pneumatic hiss of the ventilator and the soft, measured chimes of the cardiac monitor mounted on the wall.Dr. Edward stood near the foot of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest as he reviewed the latest printout of Marcus’s vitals. Beside him, Nurse Clara adjusted the saline drip, her eyes constantly darting to Marcus’s face.The heavy steel door of the unit clicked open.There was no sudden rush of air, no commotion. Ethan Blackwood stepped into the room with quiet, unhurried steps. He wore a dark charcoal wool coat over a tailored suit, his hair neatly combed despite the late hour. Behind him, Harrison slid in silently, his hands folded in front of his coat, his eyes instantly sweeping the small, windo

The television hanging on the wall played quietly in the corner of the hospital room. A twenty-four-hour news channel was on, but the volume was so low that the words were barely audible. The pale light from the screen moved across the room as the nurse worked beside the bed.Clara stood near the IV pole, carefully replacing the empty saline bag. She had her clipboard in one hand, checking Marcus's latest vitals and making notes without paying much attention to the television behind her.Marcus lay still on the bed.For the first time in weeks, his mind felt clear. Without the heavy sedatives clouding his thoughts, he could think properly again. His eyes slowly moved toward the television.A red banner suddenly appeared across the bottom of the screen.**BREAKING NEWS.**Marcus's chest tightened.A picture of his own face appeared on the screen, an old and slightly faded ID photo from his days at the docks. Beneath it, bold words began scrolling across the screen.*SURVIVOR OF FIFTH S