CHAPTER THREE: HIDDEN HEARTBEATS
I never imagined the sound of a heartbeat could break me.
But that day, it did.
Soft. Steady. Two tiny thuds echoing through the monitor like whispers from a world I wasn't prepared for.
"They're strong," the doctor said. His voice was calm, but I could feel the weight in it. "You're about six weeks along. With proper care, they'll be just fine."
They.
Two of them.
Two little lives.
I clutched the edges of the examination bed, cold sweat soaking through the thin hospital gown.
"What happens if I… If I don't want to keep them?" My voice cracked. "I can't raise a child. Let alone two."
Dr. Niall turned off the monitor, but he didn't leave. He simply sat beside me, not as a doctor, but as a man who understood pain.
"I'm not here to convince you of anything," he said softly. "But I've seen a lot of women come through this room thinking they had no choice. Some walked out with nothing. Some walked out with everything."
I didn't speak. I couldn't.
He scribbled something on a card and handed it to me. "This is the name of a counselor. Free. Confidential. And…" he paused "a place outside the city. A retreat. Just in case you want to disappear for a while. Think. Heal."
My fingers wrapped around the card like it was a lifeline.
He stood, gave a small nod, and walked out.
And for the first time since that night, that birthday,I felt the weight of something heavier than shame.
Choice.
Liora was waiting at the bottom of the stairs when I got home, her arms crossed and eyes wide with worry.
I didn't speak. I just walked into her open embrace and cried until I couldn't breathe.
She never once asked if I'd gone through with it.
She just held me like a sister would.
That night, while she slept on the couch giving me the bed again like she always did I stared at the ceiling and let the silence settle in.
I thought about Ravenwood estate now belonging to Alora, no doubt.
About my wedding gown packed by my stepmother and burned, I'd heard.
About my father's study stripped clean before his ashes cooled.
About Zarek's cold smile the morning I was thrown out.
And then I thought about two flickering dots on a hospital screen.
My babies.
The only truth left in my broken life.
Maybe I wasn't ready to be a mother.
But I wasn't ready to erase them either.
It took a week to gather the courage.
I told Liora everything, the retreat Dr. Niall mentioned, my plan to leave the city for a while, to think clearly without judgment, shame, or headlines.
She listened quietly.
Then, as I expected her to argue, beg me to stay, she surprised me.
"Go," she said, squeezing my hand. "But promise you'll call me. And that you'll come back… when you're ready."
"I don't know how long"
"I'm not counting days."
Her voice cracked a little.
"But I'll be waiting."
I packed everything I had into a small duffel. A few clothes. My late father's pocket watch. The pearl earrings I never wore. And the card the doctor gave me.
No goodbye letters. No explanations.
Just a clean break.
I boarded the bus at dawn, the city skyline bleeding behind me like a memory too painful to hold.
And I didn't look back.
The retreat wasn't anything fancy.
A quiet property nestled in the forested hills of the country, owned by a woman named Yelena, strong, silent, and full of fire. She welcomed me with no questions.
There were five other women there. Each one hiding from something. Each one quietly healing.
We worked in the garden. Cooked meals. Shared stories when we were ready. Cried alone when we weren't.
No one pushed.
For the first time in months, I could breathe.
The pregnancy changed me in ways I couldn't explain.
My body hurt. My back ached. I couldn't stomach certain foods.
But I felt alive.
As if, piece by piece, the wreckage that was Rina Ravenwood was becoming someone else.
Someone stronger.
I didn't know who she was yet… but I knew she was rising.
It wasn't until the seventh month that Yelena pulled me aside.
"You're almost ready," she said, eyes sharp. "But you still haven't told me who the father is."
I stiffened.
"I don't know," I whispered.
"Liar," she replied without venom. "You don't want to know."
And she was right.
Because some part of me had started to suspect… that stranger I thought was a monster?
He wasn't just anyone.
And when my daughters arrived, screaming and healthy, seven minutes apart on a stormy September night I knew.
Because both of them....
Looks like him.Even if I don't know him or how he looks like.