Hailee POV (10 years later.)
"Oscar! Oliver! Ozzy!" I called again, louder this time. My voice echoed through the hall, but no reply came.
I frowned. That was strange. Normally, they would at least shout back or come running—unless, of course, they were up to something. My boys were ten now, and the moment I called their names and they didn’t answer, I knew they were hiding.
Shaking my head, I marched down the hall toward their rooms. The silence only confirmed my suspicion. I marched to their rooms, pushing open Oliver’s door first. All three of them were there—huddled close, whispering. The second I stepped inside, they scattered like startled wolves. Oliver jumped to his feet, his face guilty. Ozzy scrambled to hide something behind his back, his little fingers shaking. And Oscar... Oscar sat calmly on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, his chin lifted with defiance.
"What are you hiding?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"Nothing!" Oliver blurted, far too quickly.
Ozzy’s eyes darted everywhere but mine, his lips pressed tight like he was holding back a secret. Oscar, on the other hand, didn’t flinch. He just stared at me, steady, bold, too much like Nathan for my comfort. I crossed my arms. "Tell me the truth. Or I swear, I’ll tell your godfather Frederick."
Oliver and Ozzy froze instantly, panic flashing across their faces. My threat had landed. But Oscar... he only shrugged, not the least bit afraid. Oliver crumbled first. He pulled something from under the blanket and held it out toward me with trembling hands. A smartphone. My brows shot up.
"And what exactly are you doing with this?"
Ozzy whispered so softly I almost missed it. "We were... searching."
"Searching for what?" I pressed, my eyes sweeping over each of them.
Oliver swallowed hard. "For our father."
The words struck like lightning. Slowly, I turned to Oscar. He didn’t look guilty. He didn’t look scared. His green eyes stayed locked on mine, steady, unblinking.
"We deserve to know," he said simply, his voice calm, older than his years.
I had dreaded this day, the moment my boys would look me in the eye and demand answers I wasn’t ready to give.
My gaze flicked between them—Oliver biting his lip, guilt all over his face. Ozzy fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, eyes wide, too scared to meet mine. And Oscar... steady, unshaken, so much like Nathan it made my heart twist painfully. I took a slow step forward, my voice firmer than I felt.
"And what exactly do you think you’ll find on that phone?" I asked, trying so hard to hide my unease.
Oliver lowered his head. "Anything. A picture, a name... something."
Ozzy whispered, "We just want to know him." His voice cracked like it was a confession, and I felt my wolf whimper at the raw ache in it.
But Oscar—he didn’t flinch.
"You can’t hide him from us forever, Mother," he said flatly, his green eyes boring into mine. "We deserve to know who he is. Where he is. Why he’s not here."
The words cut deep. My hands curled into fists at my sides.
"Oscar—"
"No." His voice was steady, stubborn. "You keep telling us to trust you, but you don’t trust us enough to tell us the truth. That’s not fair."
I let out a long breath, trying to keep my voice calm even though my heart was racing.
Ozzy’s little body trembled, his lip quivering as tears filled his eyes. "Mama..." he whispered, his voice breaking. "Is it true?"
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