1. Why do you always look sad?
“Cake!”
Angelo’s voice rang through the vast mansion, filled with excitement and urgency. His hurried footsteps thumped against the polished floors as he sprinted down the grand staircase.
Evangeline had barely stepped inside when she saw the blur of strawberry blond hair rushing toward her.
“Careful, Gelo!” she called out, already preparing to catch him if he tripped.
But he didn’t slow down. He landed with a triumphant huff, his brown eyes shining with anticipation as he looked up at her. Dressed in his well-worn Tom and Jerry pyjamas, he clutched his stuffed blue rabbit close to his chest, his entire being radiating warmth and innocence.
“You brought it, right?” he asked eagerly, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “The cake from the bakery?”
Evangeline blinked.
Damn it.
She had forgotten.
Between tracking down traitors, ensuring their execution was slow and painful, and wiping every last trace of their existence from her organization, the bakery had been the last thing on her mind.
Her fingers twitched at her sides, still faintly stiff from gripping a gun for too long. She hadn’t even taken her coat off yet, but the guilt settled in instantly when she saw the way Angelo’s excitement faltered.
“Berry?” His voice was softer this time, confused.
Evangeline forced her expression into neutrality. “I’ll get it tomorrow.”
Angelo’s pout was immediate, his grip on his stuffed rabbit tightening. “But I wanted it today.”
She sighed, ruffling his messy hair in an attempt to soften the blow. “I had work, Gelo.”
His lips pressed together, and for a brief second, he studied her like he could see straight through her. Then, just as quickly, he nodded. “Okay.”
No tantrum. No whining. Just quiet acceptance.
And somehow, that made her feel even worse.
To distract herself, she tapped his forehead lightly. “Did you eat anything?”
Angelo perked up again, the disappointment fading. “Nope. I was waiting for you.”
“You can’t just wait for me all the time,” she chided, already shrugging out of her coat.
“Yes, I can.” His grin was mischievous. “You always come back.”
Something in her chest tightened, but she ignored it, leading him toward the kitchen. “Come on. Let’s get you something to eat before you pass out.”
By the time Evangeline finished making pancakes, extra chocolate chips, of course, Angelo was already perched on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth.
She set a plate in front of him and leaned against the opposite counter, watching as he dug in eagerly.
Between bites, he suddenly spoke, “Berry, do you think my rabbit is real?”
She tilted her head slightly. “What do you mean?”
Angelo poked at his stuffed rabbit’s ears, his brown eyes thoughtful. “Like… does he have a soul? Can he hear me when I talk to him?”
Evangeline hesitated.
She knew where this was coming from.
He still didn’t remember anything from before waking up. Not the three years he spent in a coma. Not why he had ended up in that hospital bed in the first place. Not even her, at first.
The real Angelo, the strong, protective older twin, had been erased, leaving behind this innocent, childlike version of him.
But despite everything, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth.
If he wanted to believe his rabbit was real, she wouldn’t stop him.
“Maybe,” she finally answered, her voice softer than usual. “Maybe he listens when you talk to him.”
Angelo’s face lit up. “I knew it!” He hugged the rabbit close. “See, Mr. Flopsy? Berry believes in you too!”
Evangeline shook her head, but a small smile tugged at her lips.
Later that night, after dinner, Angelo followed her into her room without even asking.
Evangeline raised an eyebrow. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He climbed onto her bed, flopping onto his stomach. “Sleeping.”
“In my bed?”
“Yup.”
Evangeline exhaled sharply. “Gelo,”
“I had a bad dream last night,” he interrupted, hugging his stuffed rabbit. “Can I sleep in yours?”
She stared at him for a long moment.
He didn’t need to ask.
She would never say no.
“Fine,” she muttered, flicking off the bedside lamp. “But don’t kick me in your sleep.”
“I never do that.”
“Yes, you do.”
Angelo huffed, but he shuffled closer, pressing himself against her side like a child seeking warmth. His breathing evened out quickly, his fingers loosely gripping the fabric of her sleeve.
Minutes passed.
Just as Evangeline was beginning to drift off, his quiet voice broke the silence.
“Berry?”
“Hm?”
“Why do you always look sad when you think I’m not looking?”
Her eyes snapped open.
Her breath hitched.
For a second, she considered lying.
But Angelo was still watching her, his brown eyes too soft, too knowing.
She turned onto her side, away from him. “Go to sleep, Gelo.”
She felt him shift, his arms wrapping around her waist, his small body warm against her back.
“Okay,” he whispered.
Evangeline stared into the darkness, her mind racing.
She could pretend, for his sake, that everything was fine.
That she wasn’t drowning in guilt.
That she hadn’t failed him.
That she didn’t wake up every night remembering the way his lifeless body looked in that hospital bed.
She could pretend.
As long as he never remembered, she could pretend forever.
is this a good start of the book guys?
