Two Frozen Little Girls Begged Me to Tell Santa Their Address — Their Secret Destroyed Me

The Truth in the Trash Behind Rockefeller Center

I came to with my head in Emily's lap, her cold fingers stroking my forehead. The twins were huddled beside us, their small hands wrapped around mine. "You fainted," one of them said, matter-of-factly. "Mommy says you're a big fainting baby."

I sat up, my mind racing. "Emily, you're dead. I attended your funeral. I watched them lower your coffin into the ground."

"It was empty," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I had to disappear, Reed. I had to make everyone believe I was gone."

"Why?" I demanded. "We were happy. We were going to have a child—"

"We did," she cut me off, gesturing to the twins. "They're yours, Reed. These are your daughters."

The world stopped. I looked at the two little girls, who were now staring at me with wide eyes. "He's our daddy?" one of them asked.

"Not now," Emily said weakly. "Not yet. There's so much I need to tell you."

She tried to sit up, but she was too weak. I held her in my arms, feeling her bones through her skin. "You're sick," I said. "We need to get you to a hospital."

"No," she said, grabbing my arm with surprising strength. "If we go to a hospital, he'll find us. He's been hunting us for two years."

"Who?" I demanded. "Who would want to hurt you?"

Emily looked at me, her eyes filling with tears. "Your brother, Reed. Your own brother, Marcus."

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. "Marcus? That's insane. He's my business partner. He's been running my company while I—"

"While you grieved," Emily finished. "He was the one who arranged the car accident. He wanted you dead too, but I got you out of the way. I staged my death to protect you, Reed. And to protect our daughters."

I stared at her, my mind reeling. "You staged your death? For two years, you've been living on the streets with our children, and you never thought to tell me?"

"I couldn't!" she sobbed. "Marcus threatened to kill you if I ever came back. He had people watching you, Reed. He knew you were vulnerable. He wanted to take over your empire, and he knew the only way to break you completely was to take everything that mattered."

The twins started crying, and Emily pulled them close. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to keep them in the dark, but I had no choice."

"What about the police?" I asked. "The FBI? Anyone?"

"Marcus has them all in his pocket," Emily said. "He's been building his network for years. He's untouchable."

"Not anymore," I said, my voice hardening. "I'm done hiding. And I'm done grieving for a woman who's been alive all this time."

But as I said it, I saw the fear in Emily's eyes. "You don't understand," she said. "Marcus is coming tonight. He found out I'm alive. He's going to finish what he started."

I looked around the alley, at the cardboard walls and the garbage. "Then we leave. Right now. I'll take you to my penthouse. I have security—"

"Your security is his security," Emily said. "Half of your staff works for him. That's how he's been tracking me."

I felt a cold dread creep up my spine. "Then what do we do?"

The twins looked at me, their eyes full of hope and fear. "You can tell Santa where we live now," one of them said. "Maybe he'll bring us a miracle."

I hugged them, tears streaming down my face. "Santa's not the one who's going to save you," I said. "I am."

And then I heard the footsteps.

They were coming from the entrance of the alley—slow, deliberate, the sound of leather shoes on wet pavement. I looked up and saw a figure silhouetted against the streetlights. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and he was holding a gun.

"Hello, brother," Marcus said. "Fancy meeting you here."

I stood up, shielding Emily and the girls with my body. "You're not going to touch them," I said.

Marcus laughed. "You always were the sentimental one. But you're also the one who's about to lose everything—again."

He raised the gun, and I knew this was the end. But then something happened that I didn't expect. The twins stepped in front of me, their small hands raised.

"Don't hurt our daddy!" they shouted in unison.

And in that moment, I saw Marcus's face falter. He looked at the girls, and I saw something flicker in his eyes—something almost human.

"What the hell is this?" he muttered, lowering the gun.