Silence settled like a stone. Daniel raised a hand to stop the argument before it grew further.
“Hargrove will show you the children,” he told Rebecca. “Doctor Collins, we will speak later.”
The doctor left with stiff irritation. Daniel glanced at Rebecca with a flicker of reluctant respect.
“You are not easily intimidated,” he said.
“I am used to being underestimated,” she answered simply.
They climbed the grand staircase to a quiet hallway lined with family photographs. A smiling woman holding twin babies appeared in several frames. Daniel paused at a pale blue door.
“They are resting,” he said softly.
Inside, two small boys lay in separate beds. Lucas slept curled toward the wall. Aaron lay awake, eyes large and tired. Medical bottles lined the nightstand. Toys sat untouched on shelves.
Rebecca sat beside Aaron’s bed. “Hello. What is your name?”
“Aaron,” he whispered. “That is Lucas.”
“Nice to meet you. I am Rebecca.”
Aaron studied her carefully. “Are you a doctor?”
“No. I take care of children.”
He frowned. “Other caregivers left.”
Rebecca’s heart tightened. “Why do you think they left?”
He shrugged weakly. “Maybe we are too much trouble.”
Rebecca leaned closer. “I do not leave children because things are hard.”
“Why not?”
“Because children who need help deserve someone who stays.”
Aaron blinked, then whispered, “You are strange.”
Rebecca smiled. “I have been called worse.”
Lucas stirred and opened his eyes, staring blankly. Rebecca greeted him softly, but he did not respond. His distant gaze told her everything she needed to know.
At the doorway, Rebecca lowered her voice to Daniel. “They need someone present. Someone watching carefully.”
Daniel nodded slowly. “Can you be that person?”
“I want to try,” she said.
He extended his hand. “You start tomorrow.”
That night, Rebecca sat in her small room overlooking the dark garden. She thought about the boys, about their stillness, their fragile voices, their haunted silence. Something felt wrong, but not in the way the doctors described. It felt like the problem lived in the house itself.
In the following days, she observed everything. The windows in the boys’ room were locked. The air system ran constantly. The room smelled faintly of strong disinfectant. Every morning, the twins woke weaker. Every afternoon, when she managed to bring Aaron outside for a few minutes, he looked slightly better.