Chapter 14 Aurelia
AURELIA
Finn is trying to convince his brother that dragons are real.
“They are, Liam! I saw one in my dream!”
“Dreams aren’t real,” Liam says, not looking up from the tower he’s building with blocks. “Miss Mary said so.”
“Miss Mary doesn’t know everything.”
“She knows more than you.”
I’m sitting on the floor watching them argue, my back against the couch, a cup of tea going cold in my hands.
The twins turned five a few months ago, and they’re tall for their age, all long limbs and endless energy.
Finn’s hair curls at the ends like Cassian’s does when it gets too long.
Liam has the same intensity in his green eyes when he concentrates.
Every day, they look more like their father. Every day, it gets harder to look at them without thinking about the man who doesn’t know they exist.
“Mam, tell him dragons are real,” Finn demands, abandoning his argument with Liam to appeal to a higher authority.
“I think some things are real even if we can’t see them,” I say carefully.
“See? I told you!”
Liam gives me a look that suggests he knows I’m humoring his brother. He’s the more skeptical twin, the one who questions everything and accepts nothing at face value. He’s going to be dangerous when he’s older.
The door opens, and Helena walks in. I can tell immediately that something is wrong. Her face is too carefully neutral, her movements too precise.
“Boys, why don’t you take your blocks upstairs?” she says. “I need to speak with your mam.”
“But we’re playing,” Finn protests.
“Now, please.”
The sternness in her tone makes them obey. They gather their blocks and head upstairs, Finn complaining the whole way while Liam stays silent.
When they’re gone, Helena sits down across from me. “Victor died last night,” she says. “Heart attack. He was pronounced dead at home.”
The teacup slips from my hands. It hits the floor but doesn’t break, spilling across the hardwood in a spreading puddle. I stare at it, watching the liquid seep into the cracks between the boards, and my brain refuses to process what Helena just said.
Victor is dead.
“When?” My voice comes out flat.
“Last night. Julian is taking over as head of the family.”
Julian.
My brother. The one person in the Vance family who ever gave a damn about what I wanted.
“What happens now?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I’m waiting for instructions.”
Helena stands and goes to the kitchen for towels to clean up the spilled tea. I stay on the floor, hands empty and mind racing.
Victor is dead, which means the rules that governed my life for six years are gone. Julian is in charge now, and Julian never wanted me locked away in the first place. He’s told me as much during his visits over the years—he promised things would change when he had power.
But six years is a long time. People change. Priorities shift. Maybe Julian has forgotten about his sister trapped in Ireland. Maybe I’ll be here forever anyway.
Helena finishes cleaning and sits back down. “You should rest. This is a lot to process.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not, but I won’t push.”
She leaves, and I’m alone with the news and the silence pressing down like a weight.
Upstairs, I can hear the twins playing. Their voices filter through the floorboards, Finn’s loud and insistent, Liam’s quieter but just as stubborn.
I close my eyes and try to breathe.
Victor Vance is dead.
And I have no idea what that means for us.
It’s ten at night, and I can’t find the will to sleep. I’m in bed, just staring at the ceiling, when I hear the ringtone. I sit up so fast my head spins.
Helena appears in my doorway holding her phone. “It’s Julian,” she says. “He wants to talk to you.” She hands me the phone and leaves, closing the door behind her.
I press it to my ear. “Julian?”
“Aurelia.” His voice is exactly how I remember it. Warm, steady, the voice of the brother who used to sneak me sweets when Victor wasn’t looking. “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. It’s been chaos here.”
“I heard about Victor.”
“Yeah. Heart attack. The doctors said it was quick.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I say nothing.
“I’m bringing you home,” Julian says after a pause. “You and the boys.”
The words take a moment to land.
“When?” I manage. “When are you bringing us home?”
“As soon as I can arrange it. A week, maybe two. I need to get things settled here first, make sure the transition is smooth. But after that, you’re coming back to New York. The boys deserve to grow up as part of the family. And you deserve better than what Victor did to you.”
Tears burn behind my eyes. “What about Cassian?”
Julian is quiet for a moment. “What about him?”
“He’s still looking for me. Or he was. What happens when I come back, and he finds out?”
“We’ll deal with that if it happens. But, Aurelia, you can’t stay in Ireland forever just because you’re afraid of what might happen. The boys need stability. They need family. And you need your life back.”
“He’ll know they’re his the moment he sees them.”
“Then we make sure he doesn’t see them. I’m not Victor. I’m not using your children as weapons or leverage. But I am going to protect them, and I’m going to protect you. Trust me.”
“Okay,” I say quietly.
“Good. I’ll send details once everything is arranged. Helena will help you pack.”
“Thank you, Julian.”
“You’re my sister. You don’t have to thank me.”
The next week passes in a blur as Helena and the nannies help me pack what we have.
Clothes for the boys, a few toys they can’t live without, and the drawings Finn has taped to every surface in their room.
I don’t have much. All these years in Ireland and I still feel like I’m living out of a suitcase.
Julian sends a car to take us to the airport, and Helena comes with us. She says Julian asked her to stay on as the boys’ caretaker, and honestly, I’m relieved. The twins love her, and I don’t know how to navigate New York society anymore. I’ve been gone a long time.
The flight is long.
Finn falls asleep twenty minutes after takeoff, his head on my shoulder and his mouth open. Liam stays awake longer, watching the clouds through the window and asking questions about New York.
“Will we see tall buildings?”
“Yes, baby. Lots of tall buildings.”
“Will we have friends?”
“I hope so.”
“Will we meet our da?”
The question stops me cold. Liam is looking at me expectantly with those green eyes that are so much like Cassian’s.
“Someday,” I say, because I can’t lie to him. “But not right away.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s complicated.”
“That’s what you always say.”
He’s correct. It is what I always say, because how do you explain to a five-year-old that his father is a dangerous man who doesn’t know he exists? That seeing him could put all of us in danger?
You don’t. You just deflect and hope they stop asking.
“Get some sleep,” I tell him. “We have a long day ahead of us when we land.”
Liam settles back in his seat, but I can tell he’s not satisfied with my answer.
I look out the window at the ocean far below, dark and endless, and try not to think about what’s waiting for us in New York.
Cassian is still out there. Still searching, or maybe he’s given up by now. Six years is a long time. But if he is still looking, if Cassian sees the twins even once, he’ll know. One look at Finn’s face or Liam’s eyes, and he’ll know they’re his.
And I have no idea what happens after that.