Twins He Chose Twice のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

The television was still playing when Clara walked into the room with two cups of coffee. Marcus sat on the edge of the couch, his attention fixed on the news. She handed him a cup and sat beside him, but neither of them spoke as the reporter continued with the morning broadcast.“The Vance family has been found guilty on multiple charges connected to the illegal handling and misappropriation of Luna Vance’s inheritance,” the reporter said. “According to court documents, assets belonging to Luna were diverted and controlled by members of her own family for years.”Clara slowly lowered her cup. Marcus did not move. The camera showed the Vances being led out of the courthouse, surrounded by police officers and reporters. For a long moment, Marcus watched them disappear from view before the report changed.Luna's photograph appeared on the screen.Marcus's chest tightened.It was the same photograph the media had used when the police accused her of attacking him. The reporter continued s

The drive to Halden State Penitentiary took almost three hours.Marcus kept the folder on his lap the entire way, his fingers resting on the edge like it might disappear if he let go. Clara sat beside him, watching the road, occasionally glancing at the rearview mirror. Neither of them spoke much. There was too much to think about.Mr. Hale had given them everything. Danny Kessler's statement. His record. The contact information for the prison. The man who set the fire at St. Jude's was sitting in a cell, and if anyone knew who ordered the hit, it was him.They reached the prison just after two in the afternoon. It was a massive gray building surrounded by high fences and coils of razor wire. The parking lot was mostly empty. Marcus parked near the entrance, and they sat there for a moment, staring at the gates."You ready?" Clara asked.Marcus nodded. "Let's go."Inside, the reception area was cold and quiet. A guard sat behind a thick glass window, his expression bored. Marcus walke

The private jet touched down just after midnight.Ethan stepped off the plane without waiting for Aurora. He walked across the tarmac, his coat pulled tight against the cold wind, and climbed into the waiting car. Harrison was already behind the wheel."Where?" Ethan asked."A hotel outside the city. They're waiting for you."Aurora caught up to him just as the car door closed. She stood on the tarmac, her hair blowing in the wind, her eyes confused and hurt."Ethan, wait. What's going on?"He didn't answer. He turned to the driver."Take her home. She stays there."The driver nodded.Aurora grabbed the door handle. "Ethan, please. Just tell me what's happening."Ethan looked at her for a long moment. His face was unreadable."I'll be back later."He rolled up the window.The car pulled away, leaving Aurora standing alone on the tarmac.---The hotel was small and quiet, the kind of place people went when they didn't want to be found. Harrison parked around the back, and Ethan walked thro

Margaret's restaurant was busy like any other.Luna tied her apron around her waist and stepped behind the counter. The regulars were already there. Mr. Willington wanted extra pepper. The schoolteacher wanted tea with very little sugar. The old mechanic complained about the price of everything but still ordered two plates.Luna served them all with the same small smile she had been wearing for months. She took orders. She carried plates. She wiped tables. She laughed at the football argument near the window. She looked like Selena.She felt like a ghost.Margaret was in the kitchen, moving between the stove and the counter, her hands never still.she stopped and patted her pockets."Selena."Luna looked up from the table she was wiping."Yes?""I forgot my reading glasses at home. The small ones. On the table beside my bed.""I can get them."Margaret hesitated. "You don't have to. I can send one of the boys.""I need to walk anyway," Luna said. "My legs are stiff."Margaret smiled. "

The cemetery was cold.Winter had settled over the small Russian town like a heavy blanket, coating the headstones in frost and turning the ground hard as stone. The sky was gray, the kind of gray that promised more snow before the day was done. Bare trees lined the gravel path, their branches scratching against each other in the wind.Dimitri Volkov stood at the edge of the grave, his black coat pulled tight around his shoulders, his breath rising in thin clouds before his face. He had not moved in twenty minutes. Not since the priest had finished. Not since the mourners had left. Not since the men who had come to pay their respects had retreated to the cars, leaving him alone with the freshly turned earth.His brother's name was carved into the stone. Mikhail Volkov. Beloved son. Beloved brother. Taken too soon.Dimitri stared at the letters.Mikhail had been twenty-three. The youngest. The one who still laughed. The one who still believed there was good in the world. Dimitri had tr