The Siren's Echo

The silence hung between them, heavy and suffocating. Maddie stared at her grandmother, her mind buzzing with questions that refused to settle. Aaron shifted beside her, his jaw tight.

"You talk about legacy," Maddie said slowly, "but it feels more like chains than anything else."

Her grandmother's eyes, sharp as daggers, didn't waver. "Legacy isn't a burden, Maddie. It's power. It's influence. It's the only real currency in a world that's always trying to swallow you whole."

Aaron snorted, folding his arms. "Yeah, because love and happiness don't matter, right? Just money and control."

The older woman's lips thinned. "Love," she said bitterly, "is a foolish distraction. Your mother learned that the hard way. She married your father out of love, and look what it cost her. She walked away from everything. From us. From the world she was born to rule."

Maddie leaned forward, her voice trembling with anger. "If she walked away, why are you after us now? Why drag us back into this?"

"You Dylan, and Aaron are the future. The heirs. The bloodline. Your mother's mistakes don't have to be yours. When you finish your studies, the company will be waiting. A seat at the table is yours—for the three of you. If you're smart enough to take it."

Aaron scoffed. "And if we're not?"

Her grandmother's smile was cold and knowing. "Then you'll learn what happens when you turn your back on family."

The drive back to their father's house was quiet, the storm inside Maddie growing with every passing second. When they finally arrived, she barely waited for Aaron before pushing the door open and storming inside.

Their father sat at the kitchen table, papers strewn around him, a cup of coffee growing cold by his side. He looked up as they entered, his eyes warm but weary.

"Maddie. Aaron." His voice was soft, almost cautious. "I didn't expect you back so soon."

"We need to talk," Maddie said sharply. "About Mom. About why you kept us apart."

Her father's expression darkened, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I was hoping we could avoid this conversation a little longer."

"Too late," Aaron said. "We talked to Grandma. We know about the company. The legacy. Everything."

Their father flinched at the mention of her, but he nodded slowly. "I suppose you do."

Maddie clenched her fists, her voice breaking. "Why, Dad? Why did you keep us? Why did Mom keep Aaron? Why did you let this happen?"

He leaned back in his chair, the weight of the years visible in the lines on his face. "Because... I loved her. I still do. But your mother and I—we were too different. I wanted a quiet life. She belonged to a world where everything had a price. When we split, we made a choice. I kept you and Dylan because you reminded me of her. Your eyes, your smiles—every time I looked at you, I saw her. And I couldn't let you go."

"And Aaron?" Maddie whispered.

A sad smile touched his lips. "Aaron was always like her. Strong. Uncompromising. He had her fire, her ambition. She thought she could protect him from what she'd escaped. She thought keeping him close would save him."

Aaron's breath hitched, his eyes wide. "So this... this was about love? About trying to protect us?"

Their father nodded. "It always was. We made mistakes. We were selfish. But everything we did—we did because we loved you. All of you."

Maddie felt her anger unraveling, replaced by a deep, aching sadness. "Why didn't you tell us? Why keep it all a secret?"

"Because I was afraid," he admitted. "Afraid you'd hate us. Afraid you'd choose a world I couldn't follow you into. And because, deep down, I hoped you'd never have to know."