After My Twin Daughters Died, I Declared War on My HusbandChapter 1
Just because my five-year-old twin daughters ate leftover cake that belonged to my husband's childhood sweetheart, he sent them to the Discipline Academy.
The instructors stormed into our home to drag them away by force. My girls clung to the car door, sobbing, screaming for their daddy.
I dropped to my knees and begged.
"They're only five years old. They're just babies. A place like that will kill them. I'm their mother—I'm the one who failed to teach them properly. If someone has to be punished, punish me..."
But my husband just stood there with his arms around his precious Gretchen, watching the three of us with cold, detached eyes.
"If you hadn't spoiled them so much, they wouldn't have turned into the entitled little brats they are today. I'm their father. If you can't discipline them, I will. What—do you think I'd actually hurt my own children?"
The next day, I rushed to the academy with my sister-in-law.
What we found were my daughters' bodies. Covered in bruises. No longer breathing.
And my husband? He was on social media, celebrating the news that Gretchen was pregnant with his child.
I turned to my sister-in-law, my eyes hollow, empty.
"My children are dead. I have nothing left. Please... just let me go. I don't want anything anymore."
By the time we reached the hospital, there were no vital signs to save. They never even made it to the emergency room—they were wheeled straight to the morgue.
My sister-in-law looked at me with pity she couldn't hide, but still tried to comfort me in a soft voice.
"It's going to be okay. Don't worry. Grandpa and I are both on your side. My brother was wrong this time. I'll make sure he apologizes to you. You two can still—"
Before she could finish, I shoved my phone in front of her face.
On the screen was a post Max Simmons had made just two hours ago.
"Before you even came into this world, Mommy and Daddy already loved you."
Attached was an ultrasound report. The name on it was clear: Gretchen Mason. Six weeks pregnant.
Gretchen Mason. My husband's idealized love.
My sister-in-law's voice died in her throat. A moment later, her face twisted with rage.
"I'm calling my brother right now. Don't worry—the Simmons family will give you an explanation for this—"