#Chapter 21 – Bath Time’

Tires screech as Victor swerves into his driveway, throwing the car into park and jumping out the door almost before it stops.

“Victo-“ Amelia says, just starting to unbuckle her seatbelt. But he’s already moving around the house, heading for Evelyn’s cottage out back. Amelia slumps back in the seat, watching him go. He didn’t say a word to her the entire ride back. Instead, he made a thousand calls, shouted at Betas, ordered more security for the house. He didn’t even look at her.

f**k.

Amelia crosses her arms over her chest and stares silently out the windshield, planning her next move.

Victor bursts into my house through the back door, coming into the living room where I’m working to wrangle two sobbing boys into their pajamas. They cried the whole way home and, while I don’t blame them, my head is pounding.

“Are they okay?” Victor asks as he approaches, looking over the boys.

“They’re fine,” I say softly.

“Boys, what happened,” Victor asks, staring at the twins who lay on the carpet sobbing their little hearts out.

“Victor, I think we should –“

Ian crawls over to Victor and raises his arms, asking to be picked up, still screaming with tears. Victor complies, cradling the boy in his arms. Alvin sees this and works his way over too.

“Ian, tell me what happened, who took you?!” Victor insists, turning Ian’s head to face him while Alvin screeches, demanding without words to be picked up like his brother.

Ian doesn’t reply, just cries harder. “Boys,” Victor says, his voice deepening with command. “You must tell me what happened.”

“Victor –“ I start, but he shoots me a glare. This sends me over my tipping point. I lose my temper, raising my voice to say “Victor, they can’t right now –“

“Don’t tell me how to talk to my sons,” he growls.

I demand, getting quickly to my feet and gesturing towards the two red-faced boys from whom an endless wail sounds. “They’re so freaked out, they’re not going to be able to tell you anything like this! We have

do that?!” Victor snaps at me. I shove forward my hands,

them in pajamas, and wrapped up, and into bed. But,” I admit, lowering my arms. “I don’t think it’s

decisive. Then he turns and, holding Ian close to his chest, carries him

the tap and plugs the drain, letting the tub fill slowly with water. We put the boys on the floor and let them cry it out

make bubbles, adding a little lavender to soothe them. I check the water temperature – a little too hot, I turn up the cold – while Victor pulls down some towels from the rack and tosses a few toys in the

song – an song that I remember from my childhood, and haven’t heard since then. An old song, about wolves running under the

drying up. Alvin brushes his tears away and stands to watch the tub fill. Ian presses his face to the porcelain basin, watching us work almost without blinking, like he’s afraid we’ll disappear if he closes his eyes even for a

him and

head, but Alvin asking me quietly to use a cup to wet his hair. I do so, and begin

song, daddy,” Ian says quietly, looking

it to me when I was little, and when I was scared. Do you know?” He says, beginning to rinse the suds from Ian’s hair.

Alvin, laughing,

his fingers like spectacles. “You can see in the dark! And bite

sagely. “But it doesn’t mean I wasn’t afraid. Sometimes we are afraid even when we know

finally starting to leech from me. I think I needed this too – the normalcy of an evening routine after this horror of a

moment of silence, Alvin quietly says, “I was scared today. But I think there was something to be

the boys don’t see how intensely he is focused

Beta Frank to get

went ahead of Frank because we were hungry,” Alvin continues. The two tell the story together, each picking

Frank shout, and we turned around, and

Alvin says, looking up at us. “And

says, his eyes narrow.

hands over our mouths so we

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