The morning light filtered weakly through the thin curtains of the small apartment in Rivermont as Talia sat propped against a stack of pillows. The twins were in her arms, their tiny mouths seeking comfort and milk in slow rhythmic pulls. She felt tired in every possible way. Her body still ached from the difficult birth three months earlier. Her mind was clouded with exhaustion from nights that seemed endless. Yet she focused on her children because caring for them was the one thing that still felt steady in her world.

She heard the familiar footsteps of her husband approaching the bedroom. For a short hopeful moment she imagined he might finally offer to help with the morning feeding or at least ask how she was feeling. Instead, Gregor stepped into the room with a rigid expression that made the air feel colder.

He cleared his throat sharply. “Pack your things. We leave for my mother’s house today.”

Talia stared at him in confusion. “What are you talking about. The babies have a routine here. They need consistency.”

Gregor lifted his chin in a dismissive gesture. “My brother and his family need this apartment. They will move in later this week. You and the twins will stay at my mother’s place. There is a storage room behind the back hallway. She says it is big enough for you.”

The words struck her like icy water. She almost lost her hold on one of the twins. “A storage room. Gregor. I just had surgery. I can barely climb stairs without pain. You cannot seriously expect me to take two newborns into some dusty corner of your mother’s house.”

He shrugged as if the topic bored him. “You always exaggerate. My family is dealing with important issues and they need our support. This is the reasonable solution. Do not overthink it.”

Her anger rose slowly but steadily. She held her babies closer and felt her voice tremble. “You made decisions about my home. About our children. Without even asking me.”

He gave a cold half smile. “I do not need a committee to make choices for the family.”

Before Talia could speak again the doorbell rang. The unexpected chime echoed through the apartment and made Gregor jump. He straightened his clothes as if bracing himself to impress someone. When he opened the front door his face drained of color.

Standing in the hallway were Talia’s brothers. Cristof and Bastien Marrec. The two men who ran Marrec Industries and whose presence carried a quiet authority that made most people rethink their attitude within seconds. They entered the apartment with a polite nod to Talia but their eyes were locked on Gregor.

Cristof’s gaze fell immediately on the twins resting in their crib and then on the dark circles under Talia’s eyes. “We came as soon as she contacted us,” he said gently to her before turning back to Gregor with a colder edge.

Bastien closed the door behind them and stepped further into the room. “We hear you have been planning things for our sister. Plans that involve removing her from her own home and placing her in a storage room like forgotten furniture.”

Gregor’s lips twitched. “You are misunderstanding everything. My mother simply offered a temporary space. My brother needs this apartment. It is complicated.”

Cristof folded his arms slowly. “What is complicated is your inability to treat Talia with basic dignity. She is still healing. She needs safety and rest. Not relocation.”

Gregor bristled with defensive energy. “Talia tends to be dramatic. She probably skipped details when she contacted you.”

Bastien stepped closer and spoke quietly but firmly. “She nearly collapsed two days ago carrying both twins from the living room to the nursery. That is not drama. That is reality. And you proposed to move her into a storage space. Are we speaking the same language here.”

Gregor looked away. “You cannot come into my home and tell me how to manage my family.”

Cristof lifted an eyebrow. “We are not telling. We are observing. And we are intervening because she asked us to. She never asks for help unless something is seriously wrong.”

Talia felt her throat tighten as she stood near the crib. Her brothers had always been her steady ground even through difficult years. She had sent them only a brief message earlier that morning and she had expected a phone call. Not their sudden arrival at her door. Just seeing them brought her a mix of relief and guilt.

Gregor began pacing while muttering half formed protests. “You do not understand. My family needs space. My brother is dealing with problems. We are doing what is necessary.”

Bastien watched him with a level stare. “Your brother’s needs do not outweigh Talia’s health and the wellbeing of two newborns. That excuse is not going to work today.”

Cristof stepped forward. “Here is how things will proceed. Talia stays here. The babies stay here. You will respect that. No one moves anywhere unless she chooses it.”

Gregor’s shoulders stiffened. “You cannot dictate my life.”

Talia finally spoke. Her voice shook at first but she forced herself to remain steady. “This is not about them taking control. This is about me refusing to be treated like an object.” She looked directly at Gregor. “I am not going to your mother’s storage room. I am not uprooting the twins. And I will not continue living under decisions made behind my back.”

Gregor stared at her as if seeing a stranger. “So you want me out.”

“No,” Talia answered softly. “I want to reclaim my voice. I want peace for our children. Whether you choose to stand with me or against me is your decision.”

A long tense silence filled the apartment. Gregor seemed to deflate slowly as he glanced around the room. At the crib. At Talia’s tired but determined face. At her brothers who stood firm but calm.

He finally muttered. “I will stay with my brother for a few days.”

Cristof nodded. “That will give everyone time to breathe.”

Once the door clicked shut Talia felt her knees weaken. Bastien reached her first and guided her gently to sit down. Cristof checked the twins who were finally drifting to sleep.

Talia breathed deeply as tears welled in her eyes. “Thank you for coming. I was afraid I would have to do this alone.”

Cristof placed a hand on her shoulder. “You are never alone. Not now. Not ever.”

Bastien added softly. “Rest. We are here. We will help you find your footing again.”

Talia looked at her sleeping babies. For the first time in months she felt a thin thread of hope weaving itself through her chest. This moment did not fix everything. But it marked the beginning of something she had nearly forgotten she was allowed to claim. Her own life.

She wiped her eyes and whispered. “I will be alright.”