EPILOGUE

Ten Years Later

“Aidan, please stop pulling your sister’s hair,” I plead, my voice strained as I descend the stairs. Aidan, my firstborn, attempts to rip raven locks from his twin sister Aliyah’s scalp.

For nine-year-olds, Aidan’s death glare is already perfected as his black hair falls over his face and emerald eyes shoot daggers at Aliyah. “She called me ugly, Mummy!” he huffs.

I turn my gaze to my daughter, pushing her dark hair behind her ears. “And why do you do that, Aliyah? You know better than to do that.” Her own green eyes narrow at her brother. “He called me fat!”

“I did not—” Aidan begins to argue, and I close my eyes, rubbing my temples as a familiar headache threatens to take hold. I adore my children, but sometimes...

The pattering of tiny feet makes my eyes shoot open. “Liam, Lily, be careful!” I rush after my second set of seven-year-old twins, who have inherited their father’s striking features just like their older siblings.

“And you too,” a deep, British voice mur