"Mom, please—!"
Eleanor mercilessly severed the connection, entirely unwilling to listen to another word of her daughter's delusions.
*That foolish, agonizingly stubborn girl,* she thought bitterly. *She is completely beyond salvation.*
Eleanor let out a long, weary sigh. "Whatever. I wash my hands of this mess. I might as well pretend I never gave birth to her."
It had been decades, and Lacey hadn't grown an ounce of wisdom or clarity.
On the other end of the line, Lacey clutched her phone, her chest tight with a suffocating wave of despair. Her mother was far too stubborn. There was absolutely nothing she could do to force her hand.
Her mind drifted back to the agonizing memories of her delivery. She had clearly, undeniably given birth to a pair of twins. Yet, her mother aggressively insisted she had only delivered a single child.
Every single ultrasound she had taken during her pregnancy had confirmed she was carrying twins.
The birth itself had been a harrowing, traumatic ordeal that ended in an emergency C-section. Though she had been drifting in and out of consciousness, both Adrian and her younger brother, Sebastian Quinn, had been standing vigil right outside the operating room doors. How could they have possibly gotten it wrong?
When she finally woke up in the recovery suite, Adrian had been beaming down at her. "After four rowdy boys, our family is finally complete," he had whispered joyfully. "You gave me two beautiful, perfect daughters."
Sebastian had been standing right beside the bed, echoing the sentiment. "Congratulations, sis. You finally got your girls."
Due to her profound physical exhaustion, the hospital nurses had taken both infants to the neonatal ward for observation.
But the very next day, Adrian rushed into her room, his face pale and stricken. He had grabbed her hand and told her, "One of the girls is missing. But don't panic. I'm tearing this city apart. I will find her and bring her back to you."
Fearing she would collapse from the shock, Sebastian had gently placed the remaining baby in her arms. "Don't panic, sis. Just hold on to this one. Keep her safe."
But despite endless searches, the missing infant was never recovered. The agonizing loss consumed Lacey, and she withered away in grief, growing more hollow with each passing day.
Two days later, Eleanor had frantically rushed down from Aethelgard. Sitting by her hospital bed, Eleanor had firmly told her not to worry, insisting that she had only ever given birth to one child.
At the time, Lacey assumed her mother was simply concocting a desperate, well-meaning lie to soothe her shattering heartbreak. She hadn't bothered to argue.


VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Too Late to Hold Me Back