The Walter house felt warm that evening warmer than Bella remembered. It wasn't the lamps or the cooking; it was the noise: the plain, ordinary noise of family. Jayden and Kayden filled the room with stories from med school night shifts that felt endless, professors who screamed, patients who made them laugh through the worst days.
"And we're finally into residency next year," Kayden said, proud as could be. "Mum's trying to get placements near here so we can live with her and Raquel."
"Good," Vera said, hiding the soft light in her voice with a half-gruff remark. Everyone laughed, even Bella, who had been holding Jessy close on the couch. The baby shifted in her arms and gave a sleepy little yawn. Eight months she could not believe how fast time had moved.
Bella watched them and cried quietly into the sleeve of her sweater. She had missed this: the chatter, Raquel's easy laugh in the corner, the constant, messy family life she'd left behind. When the noise thinned, Jayden looked at her with a question that held more than anger it held hurt.
"Why didn't you tell us, Noona?" His voice wasn't loud, but it carried weight. "Why did Mum hide it from us?"
Vera's face tightened. She looked at Bella and told the truth, small and sharp. "I asked mum not to tell you. You were in school. You didn't need this. We wanted to protect you."
"We should have known," Jayden said. "We're not kids anymore."
Bella shook her head. "Please don't be angry at Mum. Everything happened so fast. I... I wasn't myself. I didn't want you to see me broken. And I had Jessy to think about." Her fingers tightened on the baby, and he stirred, then settled.
Kayden leaned forward to look at Jessy in the crib near the couch. "He's so tiny," he whispered. "Eight months already?"
Raquel slid beside Bella and tucked an arm around her shoulders. "We won't lose you again, unnie. Promise us."
"I promise," Bella said, voice raw. "I'm sorry I left. I thought running would save me. It didn't."
The front door opened and Joe walked in, tie loosened, briefcase in hand. He stopped when he took Bella in. For a long second his face was unreadable. Then he dropped the case and strode forward, pulling her into a hug that nearly crushed the breath from her lungs.
"My girl," he said into her hair. Bella's tears fell freely. "I missed you, Dad."
Joe caught sight of the scroller and bent down, gentle now. His hand trembled when he brushed Jessy's cheek. "My grandson," he muttered, awe and grief tangling in his voice. He straightened and rested a hand on Bella's shoulder. "We'll get through this. Together."
A knock came at the door. Kayden answered. On the stoop stood Chris, coat dark against the evening, Arabella's small hand in his. The little girl clung to him, eyes wide and violet, and the twins froze. The face was familiar from months of scandal the one that had flashed on feeds and front pages.
The room fell into a heavy silence as Chris stepped inside, Arabella balanced on his arm. Bella, clutching Jessy close, felt her heart pound painfully against her ribs.
The twins stared at Arabella, disbelief etched on their faces. Jayden's voice cut the silence first. "That's her... the girl from the news."
Kayden's brows furrowed. "The one they said was yours,... is it true?"
Arabella buried her face against Chris's shoulder, overwhelmed by the eyes on her. Chris adjusted her gently, his hand steadying her small back. His gaze never left Bella, though he spoke to the room.
"Yes," Chris said finally. His tone was calm, but iron hard. "She's my daughter. And I'll protect her with my life."
Joe moved forward, his presence filling the space. "You show up here after everything you put my daughter through and expect us to welcome you with open arms?" His voice carried authority, every word sharp as a blade. "Bella nearly lost her life because of you, and now you stand here holding a child that tore her name apart in front of the world."
Bella flinched at her father's words, but Chris's jaw tightened. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't carry that weight every single day?" His voice cracked with restrained fury. "What happened to Bella the video, the lies, the attacks, it was all orchestrated. And I will burn every person who played a hand in it."
Her throat tightened as she looked between Chris and her family.
Kayden crossed his arms, his eyes sharp. "So you want us to believe you suddenly care? That you've been protecting her when all she saw was silence? Where were you when she was crying for you?"
Chris's gaze flicked to Bella for the first time since entering. His eyes softened, even as his voice stayed firm. "I was fighting battles you never saw. You don't know the half of it."
Jayden stepped forward, his voice rising. "Then explain it to us. Convince us why we shouldn't throw you out right now."
Arabella whimpered at the tension, clutching Chris's shirt. Jessy stirred in Bella's arms too, sensing the heavy air.
Bella pressed her lips together, her own voice finally breaking through. "Stop." Her eyes darted between her brothers, her father, and Chris. "Please. This isn't about sides. It's about safety. Jessy. Me."
Her words cut through the storm like a knife.
Joe's shoulders dropped slightly, his eyes lingering on his daughter's pale face. The twins exchanged uneasy looks, their anger tempered but not erased.
Chris shifted Arabella slightly, his expression unreadable. "I didn't come here to fight you. I came to take Bella and Jessy back with me. To keep them safe."
"And what if we don't trust you with that?" Joe asked coldly.
Chris's reply was low, certain. "She's been with me for the past seven months and she's been safe in my villa. Watch me. Judge me. But don't stand in my way when I'm the only thing keeping them alive."
The weight of his words pressed against everyone in the room. For a moment, all that could be heard was Jessy's small breaths against Bella's chest and Arabella's soft whimper against Chris's shoulder.
Bella swallowed hard. Her heart was caught between her family and the man who had broken her, yet still held pieces of her soul.
And in that moment, she realized the choice wasn't about trust anymore. It was about survival.