CHAPTER 99: FATE

A doctor met them at the corridor, his face grim. "Mr. and Mrs. Stone... I’m so sorry. We did everything we could, but we lost—"

Evelyn didn’t hear the rest. Her knees buckled, a scream tearing from her throat. "No!"

Charles caught her just before she hit the ground, his own eyes wide and wet. "Please, no," he muttered. "Doctor, please—there must be something you can do! We can’t lose both children at once. It’ll break her."

No matter how much or how long he pleaded, there was nothing the doctor could do. Their two sons were gone. Their only chance at being parents were gone.

Evelyn didn’t leave the hospital for days. She refused to go home, refused to eat. Nurses tried to console her, but she would only cry into her hands, whispering over and over, "Bring my babies back. Please, bring them back."

She had nearly died giving birth to them. The doctors had warned her that she could never conceive again. And she’d said having them was enough. But now, now, they were gone with no hope of coming back.

Charles tried to be strong, but even he broke one night, standing by the tiny graves beneath the soft rain. "Why them?" he whispered. "Why not me?"

Days turned to weeks. Evelyn’s eyes were hollow, her voice faint, her heart deadened by grief. Even the joys of establishing a new company, forgotten and buried by her grief.

Weeks turned into months and then she finally learned there were gone. She’d visit their graves and cry her heart out but they wouldn’t get up.

Then, one afternoon, as they were driving home from visiting the graves, they came upon a terrible scene, two cars twisted in the middle of the road, smoke rising from the wreckage. Charles immediately stopped and rushed out while Evelyn followed, trembling.

Bodies lay scattered, but then came a weak cry, soft, and frightened.

Evelyn turned, her eyes widening. In the back seat of one of the wrecked cars was a tiny boy, barely four years old, his small face streaked with tears and blood. And in the other car was a baby, not more than a year old, crying softly in his overturned carrier.

"They’re alive!" Charles shouted, rushing to pull the baby out as Evelyn cradled the older boy in her arms.

When the police arrived, the parents of both children were confirmed dead on the spot. The officers having acquired the deceased’s IDs decided to take the children so they could drop them at a foster home.

One of the officers, a middle-aged man with tired eyes, approached gently, notebook in hand. His tone was soft but firm, the kind used to break hard truths carefully.

"Ma’am," he said, glancing from the crying baby in Charles’s arms to the trembling boy buried against Evelyn’s chest, "I know this is difficult, but we’ll have to take the children with us. Their next of kin will need to be contacted."

Evelyn’s hold on the older boy tightened instinctively. "No," she whispered, shaking her head violently. "You can’t take them."

Charles turned to his wife and he didn’t need anyone to tell him she was mistaking them to be her children.

The officer turned to Charles and when he saw his looked, he decided to approach Evelyn again. "Ma’am—"

"I said no!" Her voice cracked, sharp and trembling. "You can’t take them from me."

The officer exchanged a look with his partner, who shifted uncomfortably beside him. "Mrs. Stone, we understand you’re upset," the younger one said cautiously, "but the proper thing is to take the children to a children’s shelter until we locate any relatives. It’s for their safety."

Evelyn looked down at the boy, his wide gray eyes staring up at her, tears still clinging to his lashes, fear making his small fingers dig into her blouse. Her heart clenched painfully.

She could still hear her babies’ cries in her head every time they wanted something. The very cries that would never come again. But here, in her arms, were two tiny hearts still beating, and still warm.

Her throat tightened. "They’ve lost everything," she whispered. "Their parents... their home..." Her tears fell freely now, splashing on the boy’s cheek. "Please don’t take them somewhere cold and lonely. Not after all that’s happened."

"Ma’am," the first officer began again, his tone still even, "I’m sorry, but it’s procedure. We’ll make sure they’re safe and cared for. You can visit if—"

Evelyn’s cry cut him off. "No! Don’t you understand? I just buried my babies!" Her voice broke, raw and agonized. "God took them from me, and now He’s placed these two in my arms. Don’t ask me to give them up too."

Charles turned toward her, his own expression torn between reason and heartbreak. He had never seen her like this, not even at the funeral. She looked desperate, unhinged almost, clutching that boy as though he were her only lifeline.

"Evelyn," he murmured, placing a trembling hand on her shoulder. "Darling, please. Think about what you’re saying. They’re not our boys. The police have to—"

Her head snapped up, eyes burning with a pain he couldn’t bear to meet. "They are not our boys but they could be," she whispered fiercely. "Maybe this is God’s way of giving us a second chance. Maybe He’s saying we’re not meant to be alone."

Charles swallowed hard, torn between the ache in his chest and the sound logic in his head. "Honey..."

"I can’t lose them too, please," she said brokenly, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I can’t go home to that empty house again. I’ll die, Charles. I swear I will."

The officers hesitated, uncomfortable, unsure how to proceed. The older one rubbed the back of his neck. "Sir, maybe you can reason with her," he murmured. "She’s in shock. Once she calms down, we’ll need to take statements and move the kids."

Charles looked down at the baby in his arms; so small, so helpless, his soft whimpers barely audible now. His fingers were still curled around Charles’s sleeve, refusing to let go.

He looked back at Evelyn, who rocked the boy gently, whispering words through her tears. The child had stopped crying, his little head pressed against her shoulder like he somehow sensed she wouldn’t let anyone hurt him.

Charles’s heart twisted painfully. He knew what the right thing was. But the right thing didn’t feel possible.

He sighed, his voice hoarse. "Officer... just, give us a moment. Please."

The two men exchanged a look, then nodded reluctantly and stepped aside.

Charles knelt beside his wife. "Babe," he said softly. "Listen to me. We can’t just take them home. There are laws, procedures..."

"Then let’s follow them," she said quickly, desperate hope flooding her eyes. "Let’s do whatever we have to. Just don’t let them take them away."

Her voice quivered. "You saw what the doctor said. We’ve lost our babies and I can’t have another child. These boys... they’re the reason I can breathe again. Don’t ask me to let go except I’m giving them to their real family."

He closed his eyes, struggling. Every word she said hit him like a stone to the chest. She had been fading away for months; pale, hollow, a ghost wandering through their home. But now, holding those boys, there was light in her green eyes again. Though it was just a fragile, trembling light but it was light nonetheless.

He exhaled shakily. "Alright," he said finally, voice low. "Alright. We’ll see what we can do."

Evelyn let out a half sob, half relief sigh and clutched his hand tightly.

When Charles stood to speak to the officers again, his tone carried quiet resolve. "We’ll take responsibility for them," he said. "Until you find their relatives, of course. We’ll handle all expenses. You can check our records, our home. Whatever’s necessary. Consider us their temporary foster parents."

The officers hesitated. It wasn’t standard, not at all. But looking at Evelyn and her tear-streaked face, the way the child refused to let go of her, neither of them had the heart to argue.

After a long pause, the older one sighed. "Alright, Mr. Stone. Temporarily. We’ll note it in the report and continue the search for their next of kin. But you’ll have to come down to the station to sign papers."

Charles nodded solemnly. "Of course."

As the officers turned away to make calls, Evelyn cradled the little boy closer, whispering softly into his ear. "It’s alright now," she murmured through tears. "You’re safe. Mama’s here."

And though the boy couldn’t yet understand her words, he sighed quietly, his small hand clutching her tighter.

In that moment, Evelyn knew, no matter what the world said or the circumstances involved, she’d just become a mother again.

Days became weeks and no one came for the children. No relatives called. No one claimed them. The search didn’t yield any result.

And slowly, Charles began to believe that perhaps, just like Evelyn believed, fate had brought the kids to them.

When the police suggested sending the boys to an orphanage, she gripped Charles’s hand. "Please," she whispered. "Let’s adopt them since no one came for them."

Charles, having grown to love the kids like he’d loved his Jake and Raymond agreed with Evelyn and they made it official.