Chapter 217

The soft glow of the morning sun filtered through the wide open windows, casting a warm light across the polished surface of the piano in front of me.

The familiar hum of the household filled the room-children's laughter, the occasional soft shuffle of feet, and the ever present weight of my thoughts, which lingered in the background like a melody I couldn't quite finish. The return of Monologue had stirred a storm across the world.

It wasn't just about the music video I had released, albeit unintentionally; it was the three year silence that had made it all so much more impactful

Fans from every corner of the world buzzed with excitement, comments flooding social media, speculating and debating.

Some even claimed they heard lullabies and the distant cry of babies within the tune-a clue, they believed, that my disappearance might have been due to something far more personal than a creative hiatus.

But none of that mattered at this moment, sitting in my living room, surrounded by the two most important people in my world-my children.

"Mummy!" A small but sweet voice tugged at my leg.

I glanced down to see Shirlika, her large, innocent eyes looking up at me, her dark curls framing her cherubic face like a halo.

"It's almost Christmas. What will Grandpa Claus give us this year?"

I couldn't help but smile as I reached down to scoop her up into my arms, settling her comfortably on my lap.

"What present do you want from Grandpa Claus, my little one?"

Her answer was immediate, as if she had been thinking about it for weeks. "I want Daddy."

wavered, and for a

a name that lived only in the stories I told them and

a more serious

get off Mummy. You'll crush her,

booked up to

Shirlika's soft features, he had

his young age, already carried an

carefree, he was

tucked behind his back, as if

tongue at him, her mischievous

Sherlock, because I get to sit with Mummy and you

cheeks flushed slightly, but he crossed his arms over his

not jealous. I'm just trying

patting the empty space next to me on the

my little man. What would you like for

could answer, Shirlika, in true younger sibling fashion,

Chapter 217

He

face reddening further as he stopped. "I me? And 16, waxedy of cond tear him a sous for shanda and making Mummy sad Shirlika giggled. "You said you wanted to

arms and huffed. "Only so1 codd best

we all felt-pain that neither of them

felt the weight of their words tug at my

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