The house hadn't changed a bit.

It was still the same pale blue shutters, and small winds dancing in the breeze. The paint on the walls was peeling a little more, and the flower beds needed trimming, but it still smelled like my childhood.

My heart thundered as I stood on the front porch, hand frozen mid-knock. It was a strange sensation, like I was a teenager again, sneaking in late, unsure what kind of welcome I'd receive. Only this time, it had been Five years, and I hadn't just missed curfew, I'd disappeared.

I knocked softly so as not to startle her, and held my breath as the seconds passed.

When my mother opened the door, her eyes didn't register. She just stood there in her faded floral apron, a dish towel still clutched in one hand, and blinked like she was seeing a ghost.

"Ava?"

I smiled sadly, though my throat ached too much to say anything.

Then, all at once, she rushed forward and wrapped me in her arms. I nearly dropped my bag as she pulled me into her chest, her hands trembling, her shoulders shaking.

"Ava, my God.." Her voice broke. "I thought... I didn't know if you'd ever-"

She couldn't finish her sentence, but I didn't need to. I understood everything she hadn't said.

I buried my face into the crook of her neck, into the scent of garlic, soap, and home, and held on tighter than I'd meant to. Five years of distance collapsed into that embrace, of letters that said everything and nothing, of phone calls where I pretended to be too busy, too tired, too far away.

"I missed you," I whispered, the words cracking as they came out. "I'm so sorry, Mama."

She pulled back to look at me. Her eyes were older now, but still sharp, searching my face like she was afraid I might vanish if she blinked. Then she cupped my cheeks in both hands and smiled through tears.

"You're here," she said. "That's all that matters."

I nodded, afraid I'd unravel completely if I spoke again.

"Come in," she said quickly, ushering me inside. "Come sit down, let me look at you properly, my precious baby's home."

I followed her, my heart full and throat tight. But not once did she ask why I was here.

She made tea even though it was warm outside. That was always her way, warmth for warmth, comfort for comfort. As she poured, she talked about the neighbors, the choir at church, and the tomato garden she finally got to grow after all these years.

And I sat and listened, nodding at intervals, grateful for every second she filled the silence.

When she finally sat down across from me, her eyes softened. "You look tired," she said gently.

"I've been... busy," I said, forcing a small smile. "Life's just been a lot."

She reached over and touched my hand. "You wrote, now and then, you said you were studying a course. I didn't ask too many questions, but I always wondered, was it just school keeping you away all this time?"

I hesitated, heart thudding.

"I didn't want you to worry," I said at last, my voice low. "There were... complications, but it's over now, I'm safe."

That last word felt strange on my tongue; it didn't taste like the truth, but I didn't take it back. She nodded slowly, seeming to accept that for now.

"I just wish I could've been there for you," she said. "Whatever it was, whatever you went through, you shouldn't have done it alone."

I squeezed her hand. "You were always with me, Mama. Every time things got too heavy, I thought of you."

Tears welled up in her eyes again, but she didn't let them fall this time. She just smiled and stood up, clapping her hands together softly.

"Come on. You need a proper meal, and I need to keep my hands busy, or I'll cry all over again."

Dinner felt like stepping into the past.

She made every one of my favorites without even asking. I helped chop the vegetables while she hummed and stirred the stew like she had done a hundred times before. 

But it wasn't about the food, it was about the rhythm of being together. The small comforts of shared space and the ease of love that had never been conditional.

When we sat down to eat, she reached across the table and touched my wrist.

"Are you staying for good this time?"

I looked up from my plate. The question was gentle, but it carried a lot of weight.

"I think so," I said. "Not here in this house. I've been... living somewhere else, but I want to come around more often, I need this again. You."

She smiled, eyes crinkling. "This house is always yours to stay in, Ava. You don't even have to ask."

I smiled back in response before voicing a thought that had been at the back of my mind. "I was thinking, maybe I could get someone to check in on you, it could be a nurse, or a nanny, just in case-"

She waved the idea off with a laugh. "I've been living on my own just fine. Besides, you'd waste your money, and I'm old, not broken."

I laughed, too, though something tightened in my chest. After everything I'd done for her, she still didn't know the cost, and maybe she never would.

We spent hours talking after dinner on the couch, barefoot, wrapped in an old blanket, even though it was warm. 

She told me stories I'd heard before but didn't mind hearing again. She asked about what I'd been doing, and I gave her just enough to make her smile, but not enough to make her suspicious.

And all the while, my phone lay face down in my bag by the door, buzzing once again and again, but I wanted to remain this peaceful for a bit more.

The messages: Gloria (Nanny)

Ava, I've been calling, but you're not answering.

It's urgent, the triplets aren't here.

Please answer, I think someone took them.

But I didn't see any of it, because I was finally home for the first time in Five years.

And I was too busy remembering what it felt like.

The moment I read the nanny's text, everything inside me went still.

The kids are gone? Those texts were all it took to crush me out.

A cold heaviness filled my chest. Oh God, not again, not after everything I had already survived. 

I felt like I had fallen into the same fire I barely survived after Vivian's death.

I grabbed my phone, my hands shaking as I called the nanny. 

It rang twice before she picked up.

"What happened?" My voice was already rising. 

"How did this happen? I left those kids with you! Can't I have a break without everything falling apart?"

" I-I don't know," she stammered, with panic in her voice. 

"They were right here, Madam Ava. I turned for a second to answer the doorbell. When I came back...."

I didn't let her finish and ended the call immediately. My hands shook uncontrollably.

I told Mom I needed to go take care of something urgent. I didn't lie exactly, it was urgent, just not the kind she thought. 

Now, that excuse felt like I had lied to her face.

Panic rushed in, and guilt followed like it had been waiting. I had no idea if what I felt was my natural bond with the triplets, or if it was the crushing fear of how ruthlessly Nicholas would react.

Nicholas. 

The ruthless billionaire who had already buried one woman, now her babies were missing while I was meant to protect them.

I typed quickly.

Hi Nicholas, it's Ava.

The triplets are missing.

I just went out for a moment, and I've been getting repeated calls from the nanny. Your presence is needed at the mansion. Please help. I'm trying my best to be calm, but things are a mess right now.

I hit send or thought I did.

Just as I was about to double-check, my phone rang, my mother's call came in. 

I answered right away, my voice shaking over every sentence during the conversation.

Hours passed. 

No response from Nicholas, and  still no trace of the children.

I walked crazily around the mansion, calling their names as if they would suddenly come out of the closets and laugh. 

But the house was too quiet, no trace of them. 

Unlike every child's room, their toys were untouched, and the room was neatly arranged. 

In fact, the whole house was like a crime scene.

The sharp slam of the front door dragged me out of my thoughts. 

Nicholas had arrived.

I turned around just as he stepped inside. His sharp eyes swept across the living room.

"Where are my kids?" he barked.

"Why is this house so silent?" Why isn't anyone here to greet me?" What's going on?"

I stepped forward, trying to explain. 

"Nicholas, I tried calling. I left a message"

He cut me off. 

"Message? I got nothing. What kind of joke is this?"

I quickly checked my phone, and the message was still unsent, sitting there like it was mocking me.

"I wrote it, but didn't get to send it because my mom called. I thought it sent"

Nicholas looked at me like I'd just lost my mind, like I was speaking another language.

"Don't stand there making excuses. Where are they, Ava?"

Tears filled my eyes. "I don't know."

He froze.

"You don't know?" His tone dropped dangerously low, more dangerous than a shout. 

"You left my children, and now they're gone?"

I chipped in, "I stepped out just briefly"

"For what? Another excuse?" His jaw clenched. 

"You took their mother. Now you want to take them too?"

I took a step backward like I had been shocked "Please don't say that"

"You have twenty-four hours, no, that's a lot, you've got twelve hours," he hissed. 

"Find them. Or don't bother showing your face again."

My throat tightened as I tried to speak. My voice barely came out. "Twelve hours?"

"That's generous," he spat. "You're supposed to be their guardian, Ava. This is on you."

And just like that, he marched into the hallway, voice sharp as he snapped orders into his phone.

***

I had never been this hurt my entire life, the pain was too deep. 

I couldn't breathe. 

I couldn't think. 

The fear held me so tightly that I couldn't move.

Where do I even start? I didn't have any idea on who would have taken them or why. 

The gates were always locked and security was supposed to be tight.

Unless it was someone on the inside.

I began searching every room again. The closets, the garden, even the laundry room.

I checked the CCTV footage, but the cameras had gone dark a few hours ago, sending a new chill down my spine.

Nicholas was on the phone nonstop, calling security firms and contacting the authorities. 

He moved like a machine, cold and sharp, never letting his eyes touch mine.

I tried to sit, but my legs wouldn't stop shaking, and my tummy twisted with every passing second. 

I was so exhausted I barely noticed when I collapsed on the couch with my phone still in hand.

By the time I had woken up, it was still dark, but I was covered with something warm-a blanket.

Strange, I didn't remember getting one.

I forced my sleepy eyes open, slowly sat up, and looked around.

The nanny passed by, and I called out to her.

"Did you put this blanket over me?"

She shook her head. "No. Mr Nicholas did. He came in about an hour ago, and you were shivering uncontrollably in your sleep."

I blinked again, unsure if I heard her right. Nicholas? Covered me?

That wasn't like him at all.

"That's so strange," I whispered to myself.

Maybe it was guilt, or perhaps the ruthless billionaire wasn't completely heartless.

Still, none of it mattered. The kids were gone, and time was running out.

***

I sat up fully, trying to reprocess everything, then remembered something.

The nanny said she turned around to answer the door.

What door?

I rushed to her room.

"Who came to the door earlier?"I questioned.

She blinked, clearly startled. 

"I...I don't know. I thought it was one of the staff. I opened it, and no one was there. Maybe it was a prank"

"A prank, who would want to play a prank?" My voice broke. "And you didn't think to tell me this earlier?"

"I tried telling you, but you cut me short, and I didn't want to make things worse. I thought maybe...maybe the kids were playing hide and seek."

I turned away from her, my whole body going numb. 

Something wasn't right. 

This wasn't just carelessness; it looked planned, like something carefully arranged and a targeted attack.

A notification flashed just as I grabbed my phone.

Private Number: You took something from me. Now it's your turn.

My breath was fastened.

What?

I read it again, my hands shaking uncontrollably.

Another message followed.

You have until sunrise.

I felt my heart drop.

This didn't happen by chance. Someone was taking revenge.

And I had no idea what was coming next.

I stood in the security room, staring at the security monitors like they had an answer to my problems, but the screens were blank. The person who did this, cut it off and wiped it clean.

Three children, my children. Gone.

The silence in this big house was everywhere, heavy and choking. It was too clean and too peaceful, too quiet to be real. 

This house was meant to be their safe place, but it had now become a goddamn tomb.

And she...oh God, I don't even know what to do with her at this point.

I turned sharply, moving fast almost stumbling in my hurry as I headed for the living room.

She was sitting there like a ghost, her eyes puffy and red, gripping her phone tightly. Her pale face made her look fragile, like a victim.

"You still haven't found them," I said coldly.

Ava, lifted her head up, startled. "I'm trying. I'm not resting until I..."

"No, don't give me that," I snapped. 

"This isn't about trying Ava; this is about failing. You failed the kids Ava."

She stood up, voice trembling. "Nicholas, I didn't take your children. Why would I ever..."

"But you lost them!" I shouted, letting all my frustration spill out, stepping closer. 

"They were supposed to be safe with you. I trusted you. You, of all people, you knew what those triplets meant to me."

Hot tears ran freely down her cheeks, but it only made me angrier because I didn't want her tears; I wanted my kids.

"You told me to stay forcefully," she said quietly, "even though the contract didn't require it. You asked me to raise them, and I do that even against my will. I didn't ask for this, I  never wanted to replace Vivian"

"Don't you dare say her name," I yelled sharply, frustration boiling over, my voice low and deadly. 

"You don't get to use her as your excuse. Not after what happened that night."

She shook her head. "I didn't kill her. I've told you that a thousand times."

"And now you expect me to believe this wasn't your fault, too?" I said, with anger boiling inside me. 

"First Vivian, now the kids? What's next? Are you planning to burn down the house while at it?"

She staggered backward like I had slapped her.

Good. 

Maybe that pain would keep her from forgetting the consequences of her carelessness.

"Why would I ever hurt them?" she whispered, with a trembling voice. "They're a part of me too."

I didn't answer because deep down, a part of me wanted to believe her, but I couldn't risk believing. 

Not now, not when my children are out there, unprotected. Maybe lifeless.

"I swear I didn't take them," she said again, looking wild with fear. "Someone's playing with us. Look"

She showed me her phone-two messages from a private number.

You took something from me. Now it's your turn.

You have until sunrise.

My teeth pressed hard together.

"What is this?" I demanded. 

"When did you get this?"

"A few hours ago," she said, voice small. "I didn't know who to show. I thought..."

"You thought what?" I yelled out. "That you could fix it alone? You would stumble across the triplets like they played their way out somewhere?"

Her lower lip trembled, but she didn't look away.

"Who did you piss off, Ava?" I asked, voice dangerously calm now. 

"Who did you owe, betray, threaten? Because I know this isn't about me. This message is about you."

Her shoulders straightened slowly, her spine hardening under tension. 

"I don't owe anyone. I don't have enemies."

"Then why are you the one getting threats?" I asked. 

"Why is your name tied to a war I didn't ask for?"

"I don't know!" she cried, voice breaking. 

"Maybe it's someone who hates Vivian! Someone from your past!"

I gave a dry empty laugh, cold and humourless. 

"Don't you dare throw my past into this. My enemies go after me, not my children. This..." I pointed at the phone, "...this is personal. And it's aimed at you."

"I've done nothing wrong," She whispered, with a trembling voice and breaking words. "I'm not the enemy here, Nicholas."

"Maybe not." I stepped closer. "But you're the mistake."

***

AVA'S POV

The words cut through me like I had been stabbed with a sharp knife. I stood there, couldn't move and my eyes were filled with hot tears. I refused to let the tears fall again.

He didn't mean something like that. He couldn't. I kept telling myself that just to feel better. But he did.

With my head lower, I knew he meant every syllable.

I didn't care what Nicholas thought of me. Not really, but hearing those words after what I'd endured, giving birth to his children, sacrificing my body, my time, my emotions, staying in a home where I wasn't wanted. 

It broke something in me.

"I stayed because you forced me to," I said, with a low voice. 

"You deprived me of freedom and fucking forced me not to leave."

He didn't answer, his silence screamed louder than anything he could have spoken.

"Vivian's gone," I said, my voice heavy with bitterness. "And you're looking for someone to blame. Fine, I get it, but  you don't get to spit that poison at me every time things go wrong."

He folded his arms, without moving.

My hands curled into fists, the anger burning hotter.  

"You think I wanted this? To be dragged into your cold, empty world? I gave birth in pain. I raised them alone for five years when you were too busy hiding behind grief, and I'm still here, I'm still fighting for them."

Nicholas's jaw ticked. Something dark flashed in his eyes, but it was gone before I could read it.

"Then prove it," he said flatly. 

"Bring them back."

I froze in shock.

And then, I realised: he didn't care about how broken I was. How much I was grieving, too. How much I loved those babies.

He only cared about results.

I turned on my heel and walked away, not because I had nothing more to say, but because if I stayed, I would break down, and I wasn't going to let myself fall apart in front of him.

Not this time.

***

I locked myself in the kids' room.

Their scent was still everywhere, the sweet smell of children's powder, soft lavender lotion, that warm, innocent smell only little kids carried.

I picked up one of their blankets and held it to my chest. The sob broke free from my throat before I could stop it.

My babies.

Gone.

A knock came at the door. Then a voice.

"Madam Ava?"

It was one of the security guards.

I opened the door slowly, wiping my face.

"Yes?"

"We found something by the back gate."

My heart skipped as he led me outside. Everywhere was dark, the sky bleeding soft streaks of purple.

A worn-out bunny plushie lay just beyond the gate under a bush.

I fell to my knees. 

"That's theirs. That's Rita's."

I picked it up, holding it like it was made of glass.

The security man cleared his throat. 

"There's more. We found tire marks. Someone drove through the west side and broke the lock. It wasn't noticed because it was the camera's blind spot."

"Can we trace the tire patterns?" I asked

"We've already started."

Just then, Nicholas appeared behind me. His voice was short and sharp. 

"What did you find?"

I held up the bunny.

He stared at it, then at me. "We're running out of time."

He turned to the security. "Double the staff. Block every road out of town. I want the press shut down." 

"Not a word leaves this compound until I give the order."

"And if they demand answers?" one asked.

"Tell them what I allow, strictly only what I permit," he lashed out. 

"Nothing more."

***

By the time the sun began to rise, I felt like I was older than my age. 

Every hour was a reminder they were still missing, and every minute was another weight crushing my chest.

Nicholas walked back and forth by the windows, his phone pressed tight to his ear. His tie was gone, his shirt wrinkled, but his eyes stayed cold and locked in.

I wanted to hate him for what he said earlier. I should hate him.

But there was something in the way he stared out the window. Something haunted.

"You didn't sleep either?" I asked quietly.

He didn't look at me. "Not until they're back."

I nodded.

Suddenly, the front gate buzzed.

One of the guards rushed in. 

"There's someone at the entrance. A man says he has information."

Nicholas and I exchanged glances.

We followed the guard out.

At the gate stood a man dressed in a delivery uniform. His cap was pulled low over his face.

"Who are you?" Nicholas demanded.

The man didn't answer.

He pulled out a phone, tapped the screen, and held it up.

A video began to play.

It was dark, shaky, but clear enough.

My children.

In a room, leaning against the wall, crying faintly.

My knees gave way, and I grabbed the gate for support.

Nicholas's entire body went stiff.

"What do you want?" he roared.

The man finally looked up. His smile was cruel.

"You'll know soon enough," he said.

Then he turned and drove off.

"Stop him" Nicholas shouted, but the man was already gone, dodging cars until he was out of sight. 

We stood there, breathless after the video had ended and the man left.

But those cries...

They still echoed in my ears.

We were out of time.

And whoever took them had just declared war.