Lina and Sera Hale.
Eight years old.
Perfectly identical.
White aprons over black dresses. Hair pulled into neat ponytails.
They were the youngest “staff” Julian had ever allowed in his estate.
Their mother, Evelyn, was the head housekeeper. Six months earlier, when illness nearly took her life, she begged Julian not to send her daughters into foster care.
He agreed—on one cruel condition.
The girls had to work.
And stay invisible.
“He fired another doctor,” Lina whispered as Julian’s shouting echoed through the halls.
Sera nodded. “Mama says he’s getting worse.”
Lina paused, her hands still in the soapy water. “I feel it too. Something bad… growing inside him.”
They didn’t know how they knew. They just did.
They’d known when their mother first got sick—before any scan, before any diagnosis. And when they placed their small hands on her and focused, her pain eased.
Evelyn had cried that night.
“You’re blessed,” she whispered. “But you must never tell anyone. Promise me.”
They promised.
So when the darkness inside Julian Blackwood grew heavier, the twins said nothing.
Until 2:47 p.m.