Too good to be true

First came disbelief, all thanks to the gravity of the news not matching Milo's tone, then shock when he walked away, leaving the bigger man at the door. He moved like he owned the place, giving me the impression that this wasn't his first time here.

I searched the bigger man's face for answers, and he nodded. "Damon is waiting outside."

The unbelief still raged when I stepped fully downstairs and found Milo pulling down a canvas on which Nico had painted their mother. When he saw me, he shrugged, "He won't notice."

The shock came for me while I stood at the door of my children's ward, and well, there they were. THERE THEY WERE.

I let my tears go. Tears made of days of ache, fear, and anxiety. Incisions made of self-blame, I walked into the ward, where a couple of nurses leaned over my children's bed. And I leaned against the door to avoid falling on my face.

Their sleeping expressions still bore the traces of the terror they had witnessed. Matteo's appearance showed signs of malnou