Vincent POV
I walked into the living room just as my daughter pushed away her cereal bowl. She rested her chin on the table and stared at the front door like she was expecting someone to walk in. This had been her routine for days. She was waiting for the twins to show up out of the blues.
“Come eat,” I said.
She did not move.
I took a seat beside her. “Your food will get cold.”
“They will come,” she whispered.
Her voice wavered, and a faint tremor ran through her shoulders. I placed a hand on her back, but she did not lean into it. She kept looking at the door, oblivious to everything else I was saying.
My mother entered the living room. She carried a tray of fruit and set it down, her eyes looking concerned.
“Sweetheart,” she began, “the little brothers have transferred to a dif
