In the heart of London, on a bitterly cold December evening, a young millionaire stood by the grand windows of his penthouse in Morrison Tower, watching the snow blanket the city below. The digital clock on his desk read 11:47, but Jack Morrison had no intention of heading home. At thirty-two, he was accustomed to solitary nights spent workinga routine that had helped him triple the fortune left by his parents in just five years. His blue eyes reflected the city lights as he massaged his temples, fighting off fatigue. The latest financial report remained open on his laptop, but the words blurred before his tired eyes. He needed fresh air.
Grabbing his cashmere coat, Jack made his way to the garage, where his Aston Martin awaited. The night was exceptionally cold, even for December in London. The cars thermometer read -5°C, and the forecast warned of even lower temperatures by dawn. He drove aimlessly for a while, soothed by the purr of the engine, his thoughts drifting between spreadsheets, market trends, and the loneliness that had settled over him lately. Sarah, his housekeeper of over a decade, often insisted he needed to open himself to love. But after the disaster of his last relationship with Victoriaa woman from high society who had cared only for his fortuneJack had thrown himself entirely into business.
Without realizing it, he found himself near Hyde Park. The place was deserted at this hour, save for a few maintenance workers under the dim glow of streetlamps. Thick snowflakes continued to fall, creating an almost surreal landscape. Perhaps a walk will clear my head, he muttered to himself. As he stepped out of the car, the icy air stung his face like tiny needles. His Italian shoes sank into the soft snow as he walked along the parks paths, his footprints quickly filling in behind him.
The silence was almost absolute, broken only by the occasional crunch of his footsteps. Then he heard ita faint, almost imperceptible sound that set his instincts alight. Crying. Jack stopped, straining to locate the source. It came again, slightly clearer this time, from the direction of the playground. His heart pounded as he cautiously approached. The snow-covered play area looked ghostly under the weak lamplight. The crying grew loudercoming from behind a clump of snow-laden bushes.
When Jack rounded the vegetation, his breath caught in his throat.
A young girl, no older than six, lay half-buried in the snow, wearing nothing but a thin coat utterly unsuited to the weather. But what shocked him most was the sight of two small bundles clutched tightly against her chest.
Babies, he gasped, dropping to his knees. The girl was unconscious, her lips a terrifying shade of blue. With trembling fingers, he checked her pulseweak but present. The infants began to wail louder at the movement. Without hesitation, Jack wrapped all three children in his coat and fumbled for his phone.
Dr. Peterson, he said, his voice tense but controlled. I know its late, but this is an emergency. I need you at my house immediately. No, its not for me. Ive found three children in the park. Ones unconscious.
Next, he called Sarah. Even after all these years, he marveled at her ability to answer at the first ring, no matter the hour.
Sarah, I need you to prepare three warm rooms right away. And gather clean clothes. No, not for guests. Im bringing home three childrena girl around six and two infants.
Carefully, Jack lifted the small group into his arms. The girl was alarmingly light, and the twinsfor they were surely twinscouldnt have been more than six months old. He managed to get them into the spacious back seat of his car, grateful hed chosen a model with ample room. Cranking the heat to maximum, he drove as fast as the conditions allowed to his mansion on the outskirts of the city.
Every few seconds, he glanced in the rearview mirror, checking on the children. The babies had quieted somewhat, but the girl remained motionless. Questions swirled in his mind. How had these children ended up there? Where were their parents? Why was a little girl alone with two babies on a night like this? Something was terribly wrong.
The Morrison Mansion was an imposing Georgian structure, three stories tall and sprawling over 19,000 square feet. When Jack pulled through the wrought-iron gates, he saw lights already blazing inside. Sarah stood at the front door, her grey hair in its usual bun, a robe thrown over her nightgown.
Good heavens, she exclaimed as Jack carried the children inside. What happened?
I found them in Hyde Park, he said quickly. Are the rooms ready?
Yes, Ive prepared the pink suite and the two adjoining bedrooms on the second floor. Mrs. Henderson is on her way.
Jack carried the girl up the marble staircase with Sarah close behind. The pink suite, named for its soft rose and cream décor, was one of the mansions most comfortable rooms. He laid the girl on the four-poster bed while Sarah tended to the babies.
Ill give these little ones a warm bath, she said, her years of experience with children evident in her confident movements. Is the doctor coming soon?
He should be The doorbell interrupted him. That must be him now.
Dr. Peterson, a man in his sixties who had been the Morrison family physician long before Jack was born, arrived impeccably dressed despite the late hour.
Where are the patients? he asked, already opening his bag.
Jack led him to the pink suite, where the girl remained unconscious. The doctor examined her thoroughly, checking her vitals and temperature.
Mild hypothermia, he diagnosed. Shes lucky. A few more hours in that cold He didnt finish the sentence, but Jack understood.
Soon after, Mrs. Henderson arriveda stout, middle-aged nurse with a kind smile. Together with Sarah, she attended to the twins, who were surprisingly in better shape than the older girl.
Remarkable, Dr. Peterson mused after examining them. Theyre just a bit cold. The girl must have used her own body to shield them. An act of incredible bravery for someone so young.
Jack felt a lump in his throat. What could drive a child to such desperate courage?
The hours passed slowly. Mrs. Henderson stayed with the twins in the adjoining room where Sarah had improvised two cots. Jack refused to leave the girls side, watching her pale face as she slept. There was something about her that awakened protective instincts hed never known he possessed.
Around 3 a.m., she stirredfirst with slight movements, then fluttering eyelids. Suddenly, her eyesa striking shade of greensnapped open, wide with panic. She tried to sit up, but Jack gently restrained her.
Easy, little one, he said softly. Youre safe now.
The babies! she cried, her voice thick with terror. Where are May and Ben?
Jack blinked in surprise at the names. Theyre fine, he assured her. Theyre sleeping in the next room. My housekeeper and a nurse are looking after them.
She relaxed slightly but eyed the opulent room with confusionthe pale pink walls, the elegant furniture, the silk curtains.
Where where am I? she whispered.
Youre in my home, Jack replied gently. My name is Jack Morrison. I found you and the babies in the park. You fainted in the snow. He paused, choosing his words carefully. Can you tell me your name?
She hesitated, biting her lower lip, her gaze darting to the door as if assessing an escape route.
Its all right, he assured her. No one here will hurt you. We only want to help.
Lily, she finally whispered, so softly Jack barely heard it.
What a lovely name, Lily, he smiled, trying to sound reassuring. How old are you?
Six.
And the babies?
May and Ben, she said, her panic flaring again at the mention of them. Theyre my brother and sister.
Jacks stomach twisted. Are they twins?
She nodded, fresh tears welling in her eyes.
I need to see them! she insisted, trying to get up again.
Theyre safe, Jack said, holding her shoulders gently. But you need to tell me what happened, Lily. Where are your parents?
Her face contorted with pure terror, freezing Jacks blood.
I cant go back, she gasped, gripping his arm with surprising strength. Hell hurt them againthat bad father. Please, dont let him take the babies!
Sarah, who had just entered with a tray of hot chocolate, exchanged a worried glance with Jack.
No one will hurt you here, Lily, Jack promised, taking her trembling hand. Youre safe now. All of you are.
Lily burst into silent tears. Sarah set the tray down and approached with a handkerchief.
Sweetheart, she said gently, you must be hungry. Would you like some hot chocolate? Then you can see the babies, I promise.
At the mention of food, Lilys stomach growled audibly, and she blushed.
It
