Clara watched the three teenagers step cautiously into the room, her heart pounding in her chest. The boy, tall and lanky with sandy hair, resembled the man who had just left. His eyes, bright and curious, flickered with concern as he looked at her. The two girls trailed behind, their movements tentative, as though they weren't sure whether they should approach or stay at a distance. Her eyes darted between them, her mind racing. **These are my children?** She studied them, searching for any memory, any flicker of recognition, but there was nothing. Not a single connection, not even the faintest spark of familiarity. The older of the two girls, with long dark hair and soft brown eyes, broke the silence first. "Mom, you really don't look so good," she said, her voice gentle but worried. "Should we call Dad?" Clara froze for a moment, trying to form words. **Dad?** The word felt foreign in her mouth. That man—**Her husband, was it?**—he had acted like this was all normal, like they had built a life together. And these three teenagers—they were clearly concerned about her, as though they had known her their entire lives. Clara took a deep breath and decided to take a risk. She needed answers, and maybe—just maybe—they could provide them. She had to be careful, though. If she asked the wrong question, she might alarm them. "No, no," Clara finally said, waving her hand dismissively. "No need to call your... dad. I'm fine, just a little... disoriented." She forced a smile, hoping it would put them at ease. "Why don't you all sit down for a moment? I'd love to talk to you." The three exchanged glances but did as she asked, settling into the large, plush armchairs at the side of the room. Clara watched them closely, her mind working furiously. How was she going to navigate this conversation without revealing she had no memory of them—or of this life? "So, tell me about yourselves," Clara said, trying to sound casual. "It's been a bit of a whirlwind lately, and I feel like I've been... out of the loop." The boy furrowed his brow, his concern deepening. "You really don't remember much, do you?" he asked cautiously. Clara's breath hitched, but she kept her expression neutral. "Just a bit foggy, that's all. Maybe you can help me piece it together?" The younger girl, with bright blue eyes and freckles dusting her cheeks, leaned forward, her voice soft. "I'm Emma. I'm 13. We're all 13, actually. I'm the youngest, though," she added, her tone carrying a hint of pride. Clara smiled, a real one this time. **Triplets.** "That's amazing," she said, her voice tinged with wonder. **Three teenagers. All the same age.** The boy, who had been watching her closely, chimed in. "I'm Ethan," he said, his tone more serious. "You've been acting a little... different since the last doctor's visit. I thought maybe it was just the pregnancy, but now... I'm not sure." Clara's stomach churned. **They've noticed.** She swallowed hard and nodded. "It's probably the pregnancy," she said quickly, trying to regain control of the conversation. "Carrying nonuplets is... well, it's no small thing." The older girl, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up. "I'm Lily," she said, her voice steady but laced with concern. "And we're here for you, Mom. Whatever's going on, we'll figure it out together." Clara felt a lump form in her throat. **These kids—**no, her children—were looking at her with such love and trust. It was overwhelming, and for a moment, she felt an ache deep inside her. They needed her to be their mother, but she wasn't even sure who she was in this body. She needed to keep going. She needed more information. "Thanks, Lily," Clara said softly, blinking back sudden tears. "I appreciate that. You all mean so much to me." She took a deep breath and decided to dive deeper. "So... about before. What was I like? I mean, before this pregnancy—was I very different?" Ethan looked at his sisters before answering. "You've always been strong," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "Even when Dad was working late, you handled everything—us, the house, everything. And now, with the babies coming... it's like you're handling it all on your own again. But recently, you've been... quieter." Clara nodded slowly, absorbing his words. **Handling everything on her own.** That sounded like something she would do, even in her previous life as a supermodel. Independence had been her lifeline. She had never relied on anyone, and apparently, that hadn't changed. But the quieter part—that worried her. Lily spoke up again. "You're still the same, mostly. Just... distant sometimes. Like you're lost in thought. I figured it was just you worrying about the babies." Clara bit her lip, the weight of her new reality pressing down on her. She needed to know more about the woman she had become, the life she was now living. "And your dad?" Clara ventured cautiously, changing the subject slightly. "Mark. How has he been handling everything?" Emma shrugged. "He's been great, as always. He works a lot, but he's here when it counts. He's really excited about the nonuplets. He talks about how you're both going to make it through this together." Clara's heart twisted. **Excited?** How could anyone be excited about such a monumental task? She tried to keep her expression calm as she processed everything. But something still didn't add up. **How did I get here?** What had led her to this moment, to this life? "Thanks for filling me in," Clara said after a moment, her voice steady but her mind still spinning. "I think I just need a little more time to adjust." The kids nodded in understanding, each of them giving her a reassuring look before they stood up. "We'll be downstairs if you need anything," Ethan said before they left the room, quietly closing the door behind them. As soon as they were gone, Clara exhaled sharply, her hands trembling. **Triplets. Nonuplets. A whole new life.** She stood in front of the mirror again, staring at her reflection. Her body felt foreign, yet somehow she knew she had to embrace it. If the real Clara had been strong enough to handle this life, then she would have to rise to the challenge, too. But first, she needed answers. And she wasn't going to stop until she got them.
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