The sharp whir of a helicopter cut through my sleep the next morning. By the time my eyes adjusted, Sergio was already gone from the room. I pushed the blanket off and moved to the window in time to see the couple climbing aboard and lifting away from the island, growing smaller until they disappeared into the pale sky.

This place was cut off — no signal, no outside contact, no way to reach anyone. Most days I didn’t see another person besides Sergio. Calling for help under his watch wasn’t just difficult. It was impossible.

And still, my belly kept growing. Every day I looked down at it and thought of Lewis, somewhere out there, not knowing.

The later weeks were their own kind of suffering. As the twins grew, they pressed against everything — my lungs, my stomach, my spine. The acid reflux alone was relentless, burning up my throat at all hours. Sergio would make soup and soft porridge, feeding me slowly, spoonful by spoonful. When I couldn’t sleep, neither did he. When I needed the bathroom in the middle of the night, he stood just outside the door, never saying a word about it, just there.

"One more month," he’d tell me, easing me back into bed. "You’re almost there."

One month felt like a lifetime. Lying down hurt. Sitting too long made my hips ache. I couldn’t walk more than a few steps without my lower back screaming. My face and limbs had stayed slim, but inside I was being rearranged — organs crowded out of place, everything compressed. The only relief came when the babies pressed their hands or feet against my skin and I could see the outline of a tiny heel, a small fist pushing outward like they were saying we’re still here.

That was enough. It had to be.

"It’s uncomfortable," I admitted to him one night, keeping my voice even.

He studied my face with something that looked like guilt. "If it gets to be too much, say the word. We can bring in a doctor, assess everything, and deliver early if needed."

"No." I said it without hesitation. They needed every day they could get inside me. Twins come smaller. Whatever I was going through, it was worth it for them to come into this world strong.

But their father — how was he holding up? Did he feel this same hollow, aching pull? Did he think about us the way I thought about him?

Sergio was kind to me. Genuinely kind. But my heart had no room left to offer him. Every corner of it already belonged to someone else. I walked carefully around his feelings the way you walk around something fragile on the floor — not out of cruelty, but because I had children to protect and no margin for wrong steps.

Just over a month left. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

That night, something felt off. I couldn’t settle. The sea itself seemed restless — the wind had picked up sharply, rain was slanting against the glass in thick sheets, and a draft pushed through the balcony window before Sergio crossed the room and shut it without being asked.

"Storm coming," he said. "Bad one. Do you want headphones?"

"No, I’m okay."

I got up anyway, moving slowly around the room with one hand under my belly. Nights like this made the unease worse — something in my blood that had nothing to do with the weather.

A knock at the door. "Boss. Something needs your attention."

The island wasn’t empty — there were cooks, cleaners, security staff, a doctor on standby. I’d seen the guards during my slow walks along the shore, though they’d been instructed to keep their distance from me. For someone to pull Sergio away at this hour meant it was serious.

He helped me sit on the edge of the bed. "Stay here. Rest. I’ll be back quickly."

"Okay."

The door closed. My heart immediately kicked into a faster rhythm.

What could drag him out in the middle of a storm? My safety was tangled up in his — whatever threatened him reached me too. That couple had already shown they had no hesitation about using me. Could they have decided tonight was their window? I was heavily pregnant on an island in a storm with nowhere to run.

The babies.

Then another thought cut through — if it wasn’t them, there was only one other thing that could make Sergio move that fast.

Lewis had found us.

I sat very still with both possibilities pressing against me, unable to sleep, barely breathing.

He came back sooner than I expected. I looked up the moment he walked in. "What happened?"

"Coco, we have to leave. Right now. It’s not safe here anymore."

"Are we compromised?"

"Yes." He was already moving, pulling things together. "The woman I should be calling grandmother — she’s made her move. You’re the target. If she gets her hands on you, I can’t predict what she’ll do. We’re leaving."

He threw a down jacket over my shoulders before I’d even stood up fully. "Five minutes to pack what matters. The storm makes flying impossible — we go by boat. Conditions aren’t good, but we don’t have options."

I opened the wardrobe and started pushing things into a bag without thinking clearly, hands moving faster than my mind. In the rush I grabbed a small crossbody bag by mistake — something knocked against the bottom of it with a heavy thud. A rabbit keychain. I didn’t stop to look at it. I zipped everything up and made my way carefully downstairs, one hand on the railing, the other cradling my stomach.

"Slow down," Sergio said, appearing at my side. "Don’t rush."

Outside, a bodyguard tried to hold an umbrella over me, but the rain was coming sideways — it didn’t matter. Within seconds I was wet. Sergio kept one arm locked around my waist, and when the path grew slick underfoot he simply bent down and lifted me without asking, pulling me against his chest.

"I’m sorry, Coco. This is the only way."

His pace quickened the moment he had me. Whatever was coming behind us wasn’t moving slowly. By the time we reached the shore, the sound of engines was already cutting through the storm somewhere behind the treeline.

The speedboat was the best option available — at least it had a partial shelter. The driver didn’t wait. The moment we were on board, the throttle went down hard and we shot out into the dark.

The ocean at night in a storm is a different thing entirely. The water was black and massive, broken only by the white of crashing waves and the weak spread of the boat’s lights. Rain and sea spray hit the hull in waves, and every surge lifted us and dropped us like something was testing how much we could take. Without thinking, I closed my fist around Sergio’s sleeve.

"Why is she doing this?" I asked, steadying my voice. "Your grandmother. Is it the children?"

"Yes." His jaw was tight. "She’s lost herself to it. Everything that belonged to the Hale line — if she can’t have it, she destroys it. Love turned to hate a long time ago."

I tried to make sense of it. "She had feelings for Mr. Hale?"

He didn’t answer directly, just looked out at the water. "That’s an old story. I never thought it had followed her this far — that she’d still be holding onto it. Planning something like this in weather like this..." He exhaled. "Coco, I’m sorry."

"Don’t be. We’re going to get through this."

The boat lurched hard to one side, climbed the back of a wave, and crashed down on the other side. My stomach dropped every time. Sergio kept his hand over mine, steady, a fixed point while everything else moved. And the babies — they had gone completely still. No kicks, no shifting, no movement at all. Normally they’d stir whenever I got up at night. Now, nothing.

I pressed my palm flat against my belly and held it there.

Stay with me. We’re going to be okay. We have to be.

Then, somewhere through the roar of the storm, the thudding pulse of helicopter rotors broke through the dark.