DAHLIA 

“What happened?” I groaned, holding a side of my head. That side felt a bit swollen and throbbed badly. 

Actually, every side of my head throbbed badly. 

“You should tell us, Dahlia. We found you lying unconscious in your tent.” Martins Steebny came close, his tone calm and soothing.

The cries of my baby and Jeff pierced through my semi-conscious mind eye, I jolted up from the sofa I was laid on — boots and all. Tears welled. “My babies.”

I might not have given birth to Jeff, but I was a mother. He was like a son to me. 

“Your babies?” The man stared at me through puzzled...