Imogene Scott Lily swings her legs under the table, her tiny feet barely brushing the ground as she happily digs into her mint chocolate ice cream. A small smear of green is at the corner of her mouth. She hums quietly as she eats, completely lost in her own little world. I should be able to enjoy this moment. Watching her be this happy should bring me peace, but it doesn’t. My stomach twists as I stare at her even though my own ice cream is melting in the cup. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let things get this far. I shouldn’t have let my past mistakes bleed into Lily’s life. She’s just a child, my child, and she deserves to grow up without the weight of my sins pressing down on her. She looks up suddenly, “Mommy, are you okay?” I force a smile, even though my face feels stiff. “Of course, baby.” Lily nods, satisfied with my answer, and goes back to her ice cream. “Very good, Mommy,” she says in her soft, sweet voice before taking another spoonful. I w
Imogene Scott Lily giggles as she picks at the last piece of her banana pancake. Her tiny fingers are sticky with syrup. I watch her as I rest my head against the back of the chair. But my mind is somewhere else. The bracelet. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, staring up at the ceiling as if the answer is hidden somewhere in the cracks. Did I put it there? Had I forgotten? That’s the only logical explanation. Lately, I’ve been forgetful—missing appointments, losing track of time, misplacing things. Maybe this is just another slip, another thing lost in the chaos of my mind. But it doesn’t feel right. I inhale deeply, my fingers curling into my lap. I need to see it again. “Lily, baby, I’ll be right back,” I say, pushing my chair back. She nods, too focused on her food to question me. I walk upstairs slowly, each step. When I reach my bedroom, I hesitate for a moment before stepping inside. The room is dim. I make my way to the dresser. The drawer creaks
Imogene ScottI take my time getting Lily ready for school the next morning. With Sheila still sick and not coming in, the task is entirely mine, and I don’t mind. I cherish these moments—though today, my mind feels sluggish. I’m bothered by Georgia’s bracelet I found yesterday and the strange sense of forgetfulness creeping into my life lately. Lily sits on the edge of my bed, swinging her little legs back and forth as I button up her white blouse. She tilts her head back to look up at me.“Mommy, what’s wrong?” she asks. I pause for a second, startled. “Nothing, baby.” I smooth down her collar, making sure it sits perfectly. “I just want to remind you that if anything happens at school, if you feel sick or if someone makes you uncomfortable, you have to tell me, okay?” Lily nods, her curls bouncing with the movement. “Yes, Mommy.” “That’s my good girl.” I kiss the top of her head and take her small hand in mine, as I lead her out of the house. The drive to school is fi
Damien Shaw I’m at my desk, working through a contract revision when Kia steps into my office. I don’t look up immediately, still focused on the document in front of me. “Sir, someone’s here to see you,” she says. I finally glance up, rubbing the bridge of my nose. The first thought that comes to mind is the damn principal. I hope he hasn’t shown up here to grovel in person. I already made it clear—either they fix their behavior toward Lily, or I pull every last cent I’ve donated to that school. I don’t need another pointless apology. But when the door opens wider, it’s not the principal. It’s Sheila. I frown, leaning back in my chair as I take her in. She looks… fine. Not sick. But Imogene told me Sheila was unwell and wouldn’t be coming in for a few days. So what the hell is she doing here? “Sheila,” I say, watching her carefully. “Mr. Shaw.” She nods in greeting. “What are you doing here?” My tone is sharp.She offers a small smile, shifting on her feet. “I was
Imogene ScottI jolt awake, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. For a moment, I don’t know where I am. The room is dimly lit, the heavy curtains keeping most of the daylight out. My heart is racing, my body damp with sweat. I sit up slowly, pressing a hand to my chest. The dream is already slipping away, but I know what it was about. Georgia. It’s always Georgia. My dreams are always about her. Mostly about that night she died.I exhale shakily and push a damp strand of hair from my face. My nightgown clings to my back, sticky with sweat. The dream lingers, making my skin prickle with unease. Why won’t these nightmares stop?I reach for the glass of water on my nightstand, desperate for something to soothe my dry throat, but my hand meets empty space. I blink, frowning. It’s always there. I always leave it there. And then I remember—I moved the jug before my nap. But where? I try to picture it, but my mind feels sluggish, foggy. Did I put it in the kitchen? On the dr
Imogene Scott I carefully press the small, pastel-colored sticker onto the bandage covering Lily’s tiny foot. A smiling cartoon bear grins back at me, as if that alone can erase my guilt. I kiss her forehead, inhaling the soft, baby-powder scent of her hair. "I'm sorry, baby," I whisper, brushing a stray curl away from her face. Lily shifts on the couch, pulling the plush blanket over her lap. "It's not Mummy’s fault," she says in her small, serious voice. "Lily wasn’t careful." My heart clenches. Even at four, she’s trying to take the blame for something that’s entirely mine. I should’ve cleaned up the glass right away. I should’ve been more careful. I lift her tiny hand to my lips and kiss it. "Do you want me to get you anything?" Lily’s eyes brighten. "Chocolates!" I shake my head, smiling despite myself. "You know you can’t have sweets past seven, baby. It’s almost eight." "Please, Mummy?" She pouts, her big brown eyes glaring at me.I sigh. "Fine," I relent,
Damien ShawI let out a slow breath, my fingers pressing against my temples as I watch Imogene walk out of the room. The door doesn’t slam, but the sound of it clicking shut is just as final. My jaw tightens. Of course, she walked away. That’s what she does when she doesn’t want to hear something, shuts down, closes herself off. I loosen my tie, feeling the frustration settle in my chest. I hadn’t meant to start an argument. But how could she act like this wasn’t serious? It’s not just about her anymore. She’s been forgetting things more and more lately, and now Lily’s gotten hurt because of it. Just a small cut, sure. But what if it had been worse? What if she had stepped on something deeper, something that couldn’t be patched up with a bandage and a sticker? I exhale through my nose, rubbing a hand down my face. Fighting with Imogene never gets me anywhere. She’s stubborn. Too stubborn. But damn it, I don’t want to wake up one day and realize something terrible has happened be
Imogene ScottIt’s midnight, and I still can’t sleep. I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling because my mind refuses to quiet down. The room is dark except for the faint glow of moonlight seeping through the curtains. The house is silent. I curl my arms around my stomach, my fingers lightly tracing the curve of my belly. Two months. That’s all the time I have before the twins arrive, and yet I don’t feel ready. I barely feel capable of handling Lily some days. How am I supposed to take care of two more babies? I exhale slowly, willing the thoughts away, but they keep creeping back in. Damien was right about one thing—I’ve been forgetful lately. Not just little things like where I left my phone or if I locked the front door, but important things. I should have cleaned up the broken glass earlier. I should have been more careful. What if it had been worse? What if Lily had gotten seriously hurt because of me? My throat tightens. I know I should see a doctor, but the very
Imogene Scott I slept through the night for the first time in weeks. No jolting awake. No sweat-slicked skin. No dreams of drowning in shadows. Just silence. Stillness. Peace.My eyes open slowly, blinking into the quiet morning light spilling through the gauzy white curtains. The ocean breeze flows in from the slightly open window. My head doesn’t feel like it’s been split in two.I pull the blanket down and sit up, cradling my growing belly with both hands. The twins will be here in a few weeks. Two heartbeats fluttering beneath my skin. Two tiny souls I haven't even met, but already love with an intensity that’s terrifying and beautiful all at once.My fingers press gently into the bump. “You two are going to be okay,” I whisper. “We’re all going to be okay.”A soft smile pulls at my lips. It’s real this time. Not the kind I force at dinner tables or mirror reflections. No, this one is real.“What are you smiling about?”Damien’s voice startles me. I look up as he steps into
Damien Shaw The sun spills through the curtains as my eyes flutter open. I groan, registering the soreness in my bones. I rub at my face, letting my hand fall onto the bed beside me…It’s empty.My heart kicks up, a sudden thrum against my ribs.Imogene is not here.The sheets are still warm, faintly scented with her shampoo and her pillow’s half-squashed. She couldn’t have gone far. But still… my throat tightens as I sit up fast, pushing the blanket off. My bare feet hit the cool wood floor and I stand, eyes scanning the quiet bedroom.I don’t call out. Not yet. My gut twists like it always does when she disappears from my line of sight. I step into the hallway, and I’m immediately hit with a warm, sweet and smoky smell.Pancakes?I follow the scent into the kitchen, tension loosening slightly with each step. And then I see her.She’s standing by the stove, her back to me, swaying ever so slightly to some melody in her head. She’s barefoot, in nothing but my oversized black T-shir
Imogene Scott“Mummy, how long are you going to be gone?” Lily’s small voice floats toward me.I pause, my hand hovering over the zipper of my suitcase. The last dress is folded neatly inside and I press it down before turning to face her. She’s standing by the edge of the bed.“Mummy will be back in a few days,” I say gently, kneeling in front of her and smoothing her curls with my palm. She looks at me like she’s studying me, trying to see if I’m telling the truth or just saying what I think she wants to hear.“Will Mummy be better by then?” she asks.My breath catches.Better.I nod, brushing my thumb across her cheek.“Yes, baby. Mummy will be fine.”Lily thinks about that for a second, then smiles. “Yes, then Mummy can go. Anty Kia will take good care of me.”A soft knock sounds on the door just as I press a kiss to Lily’s forehead. Sheila steps in. “Is there anything else you want to take to the water park, Lily?” she says.Before Lily can answer, Kia walks in right behind
Imogene Scott When I open my eyes, it’s dark outside.The ceiling fan spins slowly above me. My body feels warm as I place my palm on my forehead and try to register what time it is on the wall clock across the room. But my vision’s a little blurry and I can’t make out the numbers, so I sit up instead, blinking away the sleep.I swing my legs off the bed and the cold wooden floor kisses my bare feet. I tug Damien’s hoodie tighter around me before padding to the door. I didn’t mean to sleep that long. I was just going to close my eyes for a few minutes.The hallway is dim. I make my way down slowly, hand on the banister. My joints still feel a little stiff from laying in one position for too long.When I reach the last step, I spot him.Damien’s seated at the dining table, one elbow propped up, his head resting in his palm. His hair’s tousled like he’s run his hand through it a hundred times tonight.“Hey there,” I say, softly.His head snaps up.“You’re awake?” His voice is low.
Damien Shaw I help Imogene off the examination table slowly, my hands gripping her waist. She's light and it unsettles me more than I let on. She sits up and swings her legs over the edge, her fingers resting on my forearm to steady herself."I'm okay," she says softly.She’s not. But I nod anyway. We walk out of the room together and back into the office, where Dr. Rogers is typing something into her computer. The click of the keys fills the silence.She looks up and smiles, though there's a trace of something behind her eyes. Concern, maybe. Caution."Everything looks good so far," she says. "But we’re entering the home stretch now. Just a few more weeks. You both need to be careful, especially you, Imogene."Imogene nods politely. “We will.”I thank her and reach for the door handle, ready to leave. I’m already thinking about the drive home, when Dr Rogers calls out to me. “Damien, could I speak to you for a second?”I stop and glance at Imogene.“I’ll wait in the car,” she
Damien Shaw“You worry too much,” she says. “I’m fine.”I don’t believe her. But I let it slide. For now.I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it gently, holding on a little longer. Then I lean back and press on the gas, taking us the rest of the way.We pull into the hospital’s underground lot. I park, unbuckle, and rush around to open her door. She steps out slowly, her hand finding mine. Her fingers are colder than usual.Inside, the halls are clean, overly bright. We walk in silence to Dr. Roger’s office.She’s waiting when we arrive. “Glad to see Damien’s with you today.”I offer a hand. “Nice to see you too, Doctor.”We sit side-by-side, the chairs squeaking slightly beneath us. Imogene sits with perfect posture, her dress flowing around her legs.“So,” Dr. Roger says gently, “how are you feeling about everything?”“I’m fine,” Imogene says with a small smile.Her hand is in mine. I squeeze it.The doctor nods slowly. “Let’s go to the examination room. I want to check on the tw
Damien Shaw Returning to the living room, something feels...off.Imogene’s still sitting at the dining table, arms wrapped tightly around Lily. Her head turns the moment she hears me, and just like that, she lets go.I step closer. “Everything okay?”She lifts her face and gives me a smile. It's warm but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I see it immediately. “Just feeling a little emotional,” she says.I nod slowly. I don’t push, even though every instinct in me is screaming that something’s not right. “Eat up,” I say instead, nodding toward her plate.She nods and picks up her fork. I head to the counter, grab Lily’s pink backpack, and step outside. The spring air hits me as I open the back door of the car and slide Lily’s bag inside. My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it. By the time I’m back inside, Imogene’s finished eating. She wipes her lips gently, her eyes briefly flickering up to meet mine. I offer my hand.“Let’s go,” I say.She places her hand in mine. Lily ski
The last chapter has been edited. Read before you proceed. Imogene Scott Sunlight spills across the bed like golden syrup, warm and soft against my skin. I shift under the sheets, groaning quietly as I feel the heat against my eyelids. I blink once, then again, and finally push myself up on my elbow. Damien stands by the window, arms folded, wearing that smug little smile he always wears when he thinks he’s caught me being adorable. He’s already dressed in a gray fitted T-shirt and black joggers. His hair is damp from a shower, and he looks annoyingly refreshed. “Rise and shine, sweetie.” I groan and drag the covers over my head. “Ugh… it’s too early in the morning.” “It’s almost eleven,” he says with a chuckle. I fling the duvet back just enough to peek at him. “How did I sleep for that long?” He walks over, sits on the edge of the bed, and leans in with a playful glint in his eye. “Because I cuddled you in my arms all night.” I snort. “No. You’re not my sleeping pill.” “S
Imogene Scott As soon as Damien walks out the door, I let out a slow breath. It’s soft, almost soundless, like I’m trying not to break something fragile that still lives inside me. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m what’s fragile now. He really cares about me. I know that. Every word, every touch, every look tonight, he’s trying. He always has. But the truth is, I’m struggling. I don’t know where I’m at anymore. Everything feels fuzzy, like the world has gone slightly out of focus and I’m squinting to make it make sense again. I sit up slowly, brushing my hair back from my face. It’s still damp from the shower earlier, curling at the ends in soft, stubborn waves. I reach for my slippers and slide my feet in. They make a soft shuffling sound against the hardwood as I walk toward the door. It’s just 8 p.m. The hallway is dim and the air smells faintly of pancakes, probably and something else... cinnamon maybe. Damien must’ve added cinnamon. I smile a little at the thought. He always adds t