Page 88 of When Hearts Surrender

Fuck. I’m thinking of her as my family.

“Thank you.” I clasp his shoulder.

He nods and walks off, disappearing into the dark shadows of the corridor.

“The man is a phantom, I tell you,” Rex comments, suddenly appearing behind me. “What were you guys talking about? It looked serious.”

“Nothing.” I don’t want them worried about Belle…or me. They don’t need to know I suspect something nefarious is going on.

Less than a minute later, Ryland and Steven walk toward us. Like us, they’re dressed to the nines, and Ryland is laughing at something Steven is saying, whose tall frame shaking with mirth.

A warmth seeps into my chest as I see my twin happy—the type of happiness that can’t be faked—a transformation I’ve witnessed ever since he’s embraced his life’s passion as a professor and gotten together with Millie.

My mind shifts to Sydney again, to that conversation a long time ago, the one I never told him I overheard. Like me, he was devastated when she died, and I’ve always wondered if he held any resentment toward me.

If it weren’t for me, they could’ve been together. Perhaps she wouldn’t have been on the boat that night.

She wouldn’t have been subjected to the curse.

As if sensing my thoughts, damn twin-sense, his gaze flickers to mine, his brows pinching in concern. I shake my head and smile.I’m fine.

He grins and tugs the leather bracelet on his wrist, its matching partner on my arm, a present I gave him during a trip to Ireland. It has an inscription:

“Let all that you do be done in love.”

- 1 Corinthians 13:4

We’re brothers. We’ll always be fine.

And he’s so damn happy right now. The love and contentment radiating from him is almost infectious. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted for him.

“Want to run the speech by us?” Steven asks, his black hair glinting almost blue under the bluish daylight.

“I don’t think that’s going to matter. I’ve already practiced with Belle.” My lips quirk into a smile as I think of my wife and how patient and encouraging she was with me these last few weeks when we worked on the speech over and over again. “And frankly, I’m always comfortable around you guys. It’s the crowd of vultures out there I can’t predict.”

“I have faith in you,” Ryland says and pats my shoulder. “We’re all here for you. Just focus on us if you need to stare at someone later on.”

“Or you can look at my handsome face and all will be fine,” Rex quips and waggles his brows, and we all groan.

Crash!

Glass shards explode into the room, followed by a thunderous roar. Lana’s screams pierce the air as Rex shoves her behind him. I recoil from the noise, the mournful wail of the wind bellowing into the room, flinging torrents of snow inside.

Papers whirl off my desk and books topple off the shelves as nature’s fury invades the study.

“Fuck! What was that?” Rex exclaims. He swipes his hand over a few small cuts on his jaw from the glass shards before tending to Lana, who looks shaken but otherwise unharmed.

We all stare at the room that was pristine a moment ago but is now a victim of the murderous snowstorm—the debris and wreckage strewn about in a random act of violence.

A thick, skeletal tree branch is lodged through one of the broken windows.

My heart lurches to my throat.It can’t be.

“Shit, we should’ve refurbished these windows a long time ago,” Ryland comments as he walks toward the mess. He snakes a nervous glance at me but doesn’t say anything. I know he’s thinking what I’m thinking.

The branch. The broken windows. The omen.

“Double panes like the ones at The Orchid,” Steven adds, oblivious to the tension. He examines the large branch. “It must’ve been from one of the trees outside the window or something.”

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