Chapter 5: A New Family Legend

With babies in the house, the old couple’s sorrow softened. There was laughter again—tiny socks on the laundry line, the soft hum of Mrs. Prescott’s old lullaby, half-forgotten and sweet, floating from the nursery.

After Danny’s funeral, the Prescotts made it official, putting the twins in the family genealogy. The ceremony was somber but full of hope, held in the old library with relatives and friends looking on.

Mr. Prescott named the boy Luke and the girl Lily. Classic, strong names, fitting for a family that had seen so much loss.

And my name, Tara Miller, got written into the genealogy too—as Danny’s official wife. When they told me, I nearly choked on my coffee.

"No, no, I’m not worthy…" I waved my hands in protest, cheeks burning.

But Mrs. Prescott finally put her foot down. Her voice was gentle, but brooked no argument.

"Tara, you have done us a great service."

"Danny is gone, but you left us two precious grandchildren. Do you know, you’ve broken the Prescott family’s eight generations of single heirs!"

I tried to laugh it off, but inside I wondered: if they ever found out the truth, would they still be so grateful?

The Prescott name was well known all over Maple Heights. My arrival, and the birth of twins, became the talk of the town. Rumors spread faster than wildfire, and it wasn’t long before folks started spinning their own versions of what had happened.

Now, the story of me and Danny was a legend in its own right—a meet-cute by the riverbank, love at first sight, swept away by passion, then tragedy and hope. People told it at coffee shops, at the diner, even at church potlucks.

Me: "Who wrote this story…"

Mr. Prescott stroked his beard, clearly pleased with himself. "I wrote it. Those old fools always say our Prescott family’s bloodline is thin."

"Now I have two at once, let them be jealous!"

Me: "…"