The Billionaire Twins Need A New Mommy! novel Chapter 737

Chapter 737: Fishing

Despite the chaos and endless work of the night, the next day arrived without pause.

In the room where Henrik was being kept, the steady beeping of medical monitors echoed softly. An older kid—around the first bloom of his teenage years—sat on the chair beside Henrik’s bed. His hair was brown, his eyes the same shade of blue as Henrik’s.

The boy sat still, not moving, not looking around. His gaze remained fixed on Henrik’s unconscious form until a quiet creak sounded in the room. Slowly, he lifted his eyes from Henrik to the two small heads peeking through the door.

"..."

Second and Chacha cautiously leaned in to check on Henrik, only to notice the older kid seated beside the bed. Their big, round eyes blinked in unison, curiosity clear on their faces. After a brief moment of silent contemplation, the twins decided to enter the room, stopping on the opposite side of the bed, directly across from the older boy.

"Who are you?" Chacha asked curiously, tilting her head. "Are you the doctor?"

The older kid raised his brows and darted his eyes toward the twins. They looked alike, but not completely identical.

"No," he answered. "I’m... I’m just visiting."

"Is Uncle Ricky your dad?" Second asked next, their curious, unwavering stare making the older kid visibly uncomfortable.

That was because, despite being only a few years older than the twins, he already knew what attention could bring—and it made him uneasy. The twins, however, chose to ignore that completely.

"No," he replied quietly, almost as if he were afraid of being overheard. "He’s my uncle."

The twins’ mouths formed small ’O’s at his answer.

"He’s our uncle too," Chacha said matter-of-factly. "But we only call him that to be polite."

"He’s not really our uncle," Second clarified. "Our uncles want us to call them best."

Chacha leaned against the bed, lifting her feet out of habit. "Are you crying?"

"Huh?" The older kid frowned. "No, I’m not."

"You look sad," Second added. "Mommy told us it’s okay to cry, but Daddy said it has to be real crying. Chacha always fake-cries."

Chacha nodded proudly, smiling as if that were an accomplishment.

"I cry with real tears," Second explained. "Only when I’m sad. But I’m not sad anymore because we have a mommy, and Mommy loves us, and she’s the best."

"She loves us this big—" Chacha hopped off the bed and stretched her arms as wide as she could. "And we’ll be sad if she’s sad this big too."

The older kid darted his eyes between the twins, utterly confused. He had no idea why they were talking like this or how one sentence led into the next. There was barely any connection between their thoughts.

"No, I’m not... crying," he said after a shallow breath. "And I’m not sad either."

"Then what are you?" the twins asked in unison, blinking innocently.

The older kid pressed his lips together and glanced at Henrik, conflict flickering in his eyes. "Worried."

The twins tilted their heads slowly, intrigued by his answer. After another blink, Chacha smiled brightly.

"I’m Chacha," she said, extending her palm. "And this is Second. What’s your name?"

The older kid hesitated before finally answering. "Efraim."

"Alfred, do you want to play with us?" Chacha asked eagerly.

[Anteca: Bennet Mansion]

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