Nine months had passed.
The day finally came the day my mother, Elisha, and Mrs. Gareth, also known as Clara, both gave birth.
Two cries filled the air, two voices of new life that wrapped the village in joy and relief.
My father, Paul, and Mr. Gareth celebrated like brothers.
They laughed, they danced, they drank wine as though nothing bad had ever happened between them.
Mr. Gareth cheered the loudest, raising his cup high.
He called out,
"This is my daughter! Her name shall be Alex!"
My father followed with pride, shouting,
"And this is my daughter! Her name shall be Darian!"
The whole village echoed their voices
"Alex! Darian!"
Music filled the night.
Men beat drums, women clapped and sang, and the children danced until their legs grew tired.
Inside the house, my mother and Clara were together, smiling but quiet.
Their faces were bright, but their eyes told a story a story only they understood.
Still, the people outside didn't see that.
To them, it was a perfect night, full of light and laughter.
I was six years old then, quiet as always.
Earlier that day, I had been in the city with Goru, Anna, Twilight, Jack, and Edwin, helping to deliver rice.
By the time we returned, the village was already glowing with fire and music.
Everyone was celebrating.
I could hear the songs from far away, smell the roasted fish, see the torches flickering like stars.
But my feet didn't take me to the crowd.
Instead, I walked straight to the house, to my mother.
The Arrival of Aunt Merlin
From the edge of the village, a shadow approached.
It was Aunt Merlin my mother's sister, the city's captain of guards.
She had not been told about what had happened months ago, but she had heard whispers.
And when she saw the firelight from afar, she thought it was just another festival.
Until she entered the house.
Inside, she saw my mother holding a baby and beside her, Clara with another.
For a long moment, she didn't move.
Her eyes turned to my father, then to Mr. Gareth.
She already knew the truth.
She didn't need anyone to explain.
Without a word, she called the two men to the corner of the house.
Outside, the villagers were still singing, dancing, and clapping.
Goru, Anna, Twilight, Jack, and Edwin danced with them, dropping their baskets, laughing in the crowd.
But near the corner, three adults spoke in low voices sharp, quiet, and serious.
"So this is what you've done," Aunt Merlin said coldly.
"You call yourself men celebrating like kings while hiding behind lies."
The two men said nothing.
They just stared at the ground.
They were surprised she knew, but she didn't raise her voice.
She was angry, but she was wise.
She knew some secrets, if spoken, could destroy a whole village.
So she told them to keep their peace.
She told them to protect the women and the children, and never let the truth bring shame again.
After a while, she sighed, mounted her horse, and rode back to the city under the dark sky.
The Next Morning
When morning came, the sunlight was soft, touching the rooftops and the rice fields with gold.
I came out of my room carrying the little toys I had been making in secret carved from wood, shaped with love.
They were not perfect.
Their hands were crooked, their faces uneven.
But I didn't care.
They were mine.
I smiled as I placed one toy beside each baby.
"Welcome to the world, my little sisters," I whispered.
Everyone was surprised.
It was like I already knew like I could feel that both of them were my father's children.
My mother and Clara smiled through their tears.
Father and Mr. Gareth just looked at me quietly, unable to speak.
That day, I carried my sister Darian in my arms, while Goru carried Alex.
We walked through the village together, proud and smiling.
Anna followed us, clapping her hands, while Twilight, Jack, and Edwin ran ahead, shouting,
"Two baby girls! Two baby girls!"
The villagers laughed and blessed them as we passed.
It was a good day a pure day.
A day full of life.
When we came back home, my mother and Clara had already prepared food hot rice, fish stew, and sweet cakes.
We all ate together me, my friends, and our families.
Outside, my father and Mr. Gareth were already back at the rice fields, working side by side, laughing as if the night before had never happened.
The village of Fernstead was alive again.
Peaceful, joyful… and full of secrets the wind carried but never spoke aloud.