Fiona was waiting for the news. She had been waiting for the past three days for the update on the death of Athena's children, but to no avail.
Did something go amiss? Were the snacks not meant for the kids? She wondered for the umpteenth time, biting her nails as she strolled from one corner of her room to the other, unable to shake the evil foreboding overshadowing her.
She couldn't send her maid to confirm with the hospital or from anywhere at all, because that would be admitting that she wanted them dead—people were wise these days.
She couldn't tell Morgan either, because when she had called him that day and told him about the identity of the kids, he had been nonchalant about it and had admonished her not to tamper with the kids, because he had better plans for them.
Yet those plans of his didn't sit well with her.
