Rebecca set the phone down and let the quiet fill in around her. Noon. Answers or more careful silences.
She packed her bag wallet, keys, a notebook, a bottle of water, the photo of Tina's Family she'd slipped from the album and couldn't stop staring at. After a moment's hesitation, she added a granola bar and folded the blanket tighter around her shoulders.
On the counter, the red cloth over the muffin basket had shifted again neater than she remembered leaving it. She didn't touch it. She didn't look in the mirror.
At eleven forty, she locked the door and stepped into the autumn light, the town's cobblestone bright and watchful. Noon, she told herself, feeling the word like a hinge the day would swing on.
Noon, she would ask questions about the Weatherman's and see what history they had here.
Clara Boyd looked up from her desk as Rebecca entered. "Ms. Earl. Right on time." Her smile was polite, though her eyes swept over Rebecca with an almost motherly caution.
Rebecca returned the smile and sank into a chair. Across from her, a plump woman in a floral dress set aside a Dog magazine.
"Rebecca, isn't it?" she asked brightly. "I'm Millie. Millie Harkness. Millie's Antiques, right off the square."
Rebecca nodded. "Yes, I saw your shop. It looks beautiful from the window"
"Oh, you'll have to stop in sometime." Millie said, eyes twinkling. "I've got half the town's history tucked into those shelves. Sometimes I think I know more about Hollow's Edge than the library does." She chuckled, then leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Though some histories best left alone."
Rebecca's stomach tightened. Always that warning. Always the shadows between words.
The clinic door opened with a soft chime. Nathaniel stepped inside, his presence filling the small room as though it were too narrow to contain him. Dark coat, storm-gray eyes, expression unreadable.
"Clara," he said, his voice low but firm, "a word. Privately."
Clara stiffened slightly, then rose, her hand lingering on the edge of her desk. "Of course, Mr. Edgeworth."
Millie gathered her purse quickly, rising from her chair. "Well, that's my cue. Always something needing dusting back at the shop." She offered Rebecca a smile, though it wavered at the edges. "Take care, dear."
The door closed behind her, leaving the waiting room too quiet.
Rebecca shifted in her seat, acutely aware of Nathaniel only a few steps away. He spoke in a low voice to Clara, words too soft to catch. Clara nodded quickly, scribbling something on a notepad.
Rebecca's gaze drifted toward the window, and her breath caught. A shadow slipped across the glass. For a heartbeat, she swore she saw another face reflected there, sharper, hungrier face. Alexander.
Clara noticed too. Her hand stilled on the notepad, her lips parting as her eyes darted to the window. But before either of them could speak, Greyson's voice carried from the hall.
"Clara, send Rebecca back, please."
Clara blinked, shook herself, then looked to Rebecca with a brisk smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Dr. Greyson is ready for you."
Rebecca rose on unsteady legs, her stomach twisting as she passed Nathaniel. His eyes met hers, storm-gray and unreadable, before sliding away as though nothing had passed between them.
Clara ushered her down the narrow hallway. "He's in exam two. Go right in.
Greyson waited inside, his silver hair catching the light from the small window. His expression was warm, steady, grounding. "Rebecca," he greeted gently. "Let's have a look at the baby if we can. We'll make sure everything is all right."
Rebecca's throat tightened, her hand brushing unconsciously against her abdomen. The memory of Tina's touch, the phantom handprint, the shadow at the window all of it weighed down on her.
She stepped into the exam room, the door closing softly behind her.
The room was cool, the blinds half-closed against the noon sun. Rebecca sat on the edge of the exam table, paper crinkling beneath her, her hands clenched in her lap. Greyson moved with quiet precision, rolling the ultrasound machine closer.
"Fourteen weeks, give or take," he murmured after taking a measurement of her abdomen, slipping on his glasses. "We'll see what we can."
Rebecca's stomach tightened. "Fourteen?"
"Yes." His eyes flicked to her, gentle but firm. "Sometimes the body conceals until it cannot."
He dimmed the lights, the machine's glow casting a faint blue shimmer across the room. "Lie back, Rebecca. Deep breaths."
Cold gel spread across her lower abdomen, making her gasp. Greyson pressed the wand lightly against her skin, his gaze focused on the monitor.
For a moment, the screen flickered with static. Then a shape came into focus. Rebecca's breath caught.
A heartbeat. Then another. Then a third.
Greyson inhaled sharply. He adjusted the wand, his lips tightening in surprise. "Rebecca," he said softly, "there are three."
Her pulse thundered. "Three?"
"Three," Greyson confirmed, voice low with awe. "Triplets. Strong. About fourteen weeks each. A bit to soon to tell the gender. Do you hear them?" He turned the sound up.
The room filled with rhythm. Not one steady beat, but three, overlapping, weaving into a chorus of life.
Rebecca pressed a trembling hand to her mouth. Her eyes blurred with tears. "I didn't even know there was one. And now three?"
Greyson's voice softened, almost reverent. "It is rare. Remarkable at your age its pretty hard to get one baby let alone three."
Greyson studied the monitor, then set the wand aside with a sigh that was both clinical and grave.
"You're fourteen weeks, Rebecca. That places your official due date at March 24th"
Rebecca
Rebecca's breath hitched. "That's my birthday."
Her hand drifted instinctively to her abdomen. The thought of three lives arriving on the same day she was born made her stomach twist. Full circle.
Greyson's expression shifted softer, then darker, as if something weighed heavily on his tongue. "Rebecca," he said carefully, "there is more. That date it is also the day your grandmother disappeared."
The room tilted. Rebecca gripped the edge of the exam table, her pulse pounding. "What?"
"March 24th," Greyson repeated, his voice steady, heavy. "The night Tina Weatherman vanished from Hollow's Edge. You were born three years later on that same date. And now your children are set to arrive then as well."
The three heartbeats thrummed through the speakers, overlapping in a chorus that felt less like life and more like prophecy.
Rebecca shook her head, her voice breaking. "That can't be coincidence."
Greyson's eyes, storm-gray and solemn, held hers. "No. Hollow's Edge does not deal in coincidence. It never has."
Rebecca hesitated at the door, her mind on the photo in her bag. Slowly, she grabbed the photograph had been placed in there with care before her appointment.
"Dr. Greyson," she said softly, her throat tight. "I found this in my granmother's things. Do you do you know them?"
She set the photo down in front of Greyson. A family gathered in black and white her grandmother, her mother as a child both her uncles as children, and a man whose features must have been Harry her grandfather. Two other children twin boys it appears they are Jarred and Alexander Edgeworth. His smile shifted when she stared too long, almost as though the picture itself resisted being studied.
Greyson's hand hovered above the picture but didn't touch. His eyes darkened, calm draining away. He leaned closer, scanning each face with a care that spoke of recognition and dread.
"This," he murmured, "is not a photograph you should carry so openly Rebecca."
Rebecca's breath caught. "But it's my family. My blood."
Greyson finally met her eyes, voice as a warning. "Because not all bloodlines are meant to be remembered aloud. Some ties run deeper than you realize, Rebecca. And some invite attention best left sleeping."
Clara shifted uneasily by the doorway, and for the first time since Rebecca arrived, her cheerful warmth seemed to dim.
Rebecca clutched the photo back against her chest, her heart rattling like loose glass. Greyson straightened, forcing a note of steadiness into his tone. "Keep it with you, but guarded. Ask no more of it tonight. The answers will come though I cannot promise you'll like them."
Clara slipped into the room, carrying Rebecca's bag to her. Her expression was gentle but tinged with motherly worry. "Rebecca, you mustn't take the side streets today. There was a shadow presence earlier. I don't like the feel of it hanging around you."
Dr. Greyson adjusted his glasses, his voice low but urgent. "Clara's right. Shadows move differently here. If you notice one following too closely, do not stop, do not speak. Stay to the open lanes." He placed a steadying hand on Rebecca's arm, his look calm masking something older, deeper.
Rebecca swallowed, her mouth dry. "I'll be careful."
Nathaniel appeared at the doorway, dark coat still dusted from the drizzle outside. He inclined his head, waiting.
Greyson gave a final nod toward him. "Best if you walk with Nathaniel. He knows the ways and the turns where the light still holds strong. Let him see you safely as far as the café and home Please.
Clara touched Rebecca's hand, her eyes lingering on the curve of her abdomen. "Promise me you'll take the main path. No shortcuts."
Rebecca managers half hearted smile. "I promise."
With that, she stepped into the hall, Nathaniel falling into quiet stride beside her as the door shut softly behind. The lingering weight of Greyson's warning followed her out into the pale afternoon, mingling with the thought of shadows that seemed just a breath away.