Prologue
The front door creaked open, and the bags dropped from her arms, spilling their contents across the floor. Apples rolled, a milk carton tipped over, but she didn't see any of it. Her eyes were already scanning the room, wide with dread.
"My sons… where are you?"
Her voice barely escaped her lips.
Nothing. Not a footstep. Not a giggle. Not the rustle of toys or little socks pattering against the floor.
"Where are you??"
Now louder, sharp, like a crack splitting the air.
She ran from room to room—living room, hallway, bathroom, bedrooms—nothing. The house felt hollow, like a shell. Like it had been drained of warmth, of life.
"Mom's here!! I'm home!!" she cried again, louder this time, a desperate hope clutching her chest.
"Darling??"
Her eyes flicked around. Every room. Every drawer. Every place a child might hide.
"Where are you guys…?"
Still silence.
Her throat tightened. Tears started spilling. Her knees gave way, slamming to the ground.
"Mom's home… babies… answer me… please…"
The silence grew louder. Heavier. It sat on her shoulders, wrapped around her neck like hands squeezing, choking.
"Love? Sweetie? This isn't funny anymore! Mommy's here! Come on—come on out!"
The panic bled into her voice now. Her words started tumbling, no space between them.
"M-My sons—where did you both go?! WHERE ARE YOU?!"
Her scream ripped from her chest. She clawed at the carpet, crawling, dragging herself from one room to the next.
"GIVE ME BACK MY TWIN!! GIVE ME BACK MY BABIES!!"
The air pulsed around her, heavy with grief. Her vision blurred. Her thoughts began to twist, shatter.
"No—NO! Not them! Not my twins—please, I'll do anything, just bring them back—please!"
Her sobs were ragged now. Her voice raw. Her fingers left red marks along the walls. She hit her head against the floor once. Twice.
And then—she stilled.
Wide, wild eyes stared into nothing.
"They're… hiding."
A sudden smile flickered. Twitched.
"They're playing hide and seek… right?" she whispered, her voice sing-song now, as if trying to convince herself.
"Silly boys… such good hiders…"
She laughed. Short. Broken.
"I'll find you… mama always finds you… hehehe…"
She crawled under the table, yanked open cabinets, called softly into the dark:
"Boo? Peek-a-boo? Come out, mommy's here…"
Then she began to hum—a lullaby. The one she used to sing at bedtime. But now it was off-key, distorted, her voice shaking.
"Hush now… don't you cry…"
"Mommy's… here… I'm still here…"
She held an empty blanket to her chest, rocking back and forth on the kitchen floor.
"My babies are just napping," she whispered, nodding.
"Just… just napping… right here… in my arms…"
She stared down at nothing.
And smiled.
A tear rolled down her cheek.
She didn't blink.
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End