Damien’s POV
With some convincing, we coaxed the girls to return upstairs. Together, Amelia and I spent some time with them, playing games and reading books. During this, they stopped crying, and when it came time to put them to bed, they seemed reassured that everything was fine.
At least, for now.
Leaving their bedrooms, Amelia and I quietly returned downstairs to the den. While Amelia walked to the center of the room, I moved to the bar, looking for a drink.
“Wine?” I asked her.
She glanced around, gaze catching on the couch but she didn’t sit down. It was like she didn’t know what to do with herself.
I knew the feeling.
“Something white,” she said. “Please.”
I reached for the wine fridge under the bar and retrieved a bottle of chardonnay. After popping the cork, I poured her a
