Page 54 of Nanny for the Demon's Twins

A shelf of finished pieces catches my eye. I shouldn't. But I need funds to get far away, and these are worth more than anything else I own. My hand hovers over an intricate necklace before my eyes move to another piece on his workbench that seems to call to me - a bracelet etched with protective runes.

The metal is warm against my skin, almost alive. It pulses gently, like a heartbeat, and I recognize Karn's magic signature - that mix of strength and gentleness that's uniquely him. And…the twins? The bracelet feels like their magic too.

"I'm sorry," I breathe, slipping it into my pack along with two smaller pieces. "I'll find a way to repay you someday."

The guilt sits heavy in my stomach as I add a few more valuable items. But it's better than the alternative - better than seeing him hurt because of me. Better than watching my past destroy everything he's built here.

I pause by his workbench, running my fingers over the smooth wood. The twins' drawings are tacked to the wall above it, bright splashes of color against the dark stone. I force myself to turn away before the tears can start again.

I can't leave without a word, though. So I look for parchment and ink, my hands shaking as I hover the quill, ink splattering across the page. The words won't come.

How do I explain that leaving is the only way to keep them safe? That my past is catching up and I can't let it touch them?

Dear Karn,I write, then scratch it out. Too formal.

I try again.Karn. I-

The ink blots where my tears fall.

I crumple the paper, starting fresh. My fingers trace the slave brand on my wrist, the raised flesh a constant reminder of what I'm running from. What I can't let touch this family.

I have to go. Please don't look for me. You and the twins deserve better than-My throat closes up. The quill snaps in my grip.

"Damn it." I brush ink off my hands, smearing it across my dress. The green fabric - the first gift Karn ever gave me - now stained with black spots like my heart.

Another piece of parchment. Another attempt.

The twins need someone whole. Someone who won't bring danger to their door. I'm so sorry. I love-

The words blur as tears stream down my face. I can't write that. Can't make it real. Can't let him know how deep this goes, or he might try to follow.

In the end, all I manage is something simple.

Thank you for showing me what family could be. Keep them safe.

It's not enough. It's nowhere near enough. But it has to be.

I fold the note with trembling fingers, placing it on the workbench. My pack feels heavy on my shoulder as I slip through the shadows toward the door.

The eastern ports are three days' journey. If I can make it there, find passage on a ship... I try not to let the thought of all that space tear me apart as I pause, looking around the shop one last time.

Then I'm gone, slipping into the night like the ghost I need to become.

23

KARN

The first rays of dawn filter through my windows, and I'm already awake. Years of smithing have trained my body to rise with the sun, though these days it's the twins who keep me on schedule more than anything.

I stretch, my muscles protesting after a terrible night of sleep. Mira never came to my bed, and at this point, I need to talk to her.

The twins' soft breaths drift from the bedroom - for once they're still asleep. Perfect time to check on Mira.

The floorboards creak under my weight as I move to the guest room. My knuckles hover over the door, but something stops me. The silence from within feels... wrong.

"Mira?" I keep my voice low, not wanting to wake her if she's sleeping. No answer.

I ease the door open, wincing at the hinges' protest. The bed is empty, sheets pulled tight with precision. Her few belongings are gone.

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