Echos of a Genius | Spencer Reid

Twins

Stephie

The date of the wedding has been set.
November 29th.
Three months until I can say I am officially married.

The aroma of garlic and herbs filled the small kitchen as Spencer and I settled down for a cozy dinner at home. I loved these moments—just the two of us, sharing laughter and stories over a home-cooked meal. The world outside felt distant and chaotic, and here, in this moment, everything felt perfect.

"Did you ever think we'd end up here?" Spencer asked, his fork pausing mid-air. His eyes held that familiar warmth that made my heart flutter.

"Honestly? Not really. But I wouldn't trade it for anything," I replied, a smile lighting up my face. My scars still lingered like ghosts, reminders of battles fought, but in moments like this, they felt less like marks of pain and more like badges of resilience. With Spencer by my side, I felt like I could face anything.

Just as I was about to share another story, a firm knock echoed through the apartment. I glanced at Spencer, and he shrugged, his brow slightly furrowed. We rarely had visitors, especially unannounced.

"Want me to get it?" he offered, setting down his fork and standing.

"I'll get it," I replied, a mix of curiosity and unease bubbling in my stomach. I stood as he watched me walk toward the door, trying to shake off the strange feeling that was creeping in.

I opened the door, and my heart raced as I caught a glimpse of a woman standing there. She was older than me, perhaps in her late forties, with strikingly familiar features—high cheekbones, soft brown hair, and an expression that looked almost too hopeful.

"Hi, I'm your Aunt Hanna," she said, her voice warm but tinged with nervousness.

Aunt? I felt my stomach drop. I had no idea who this woman was. "What?" I blurted out, my mind racing. "I don't—"

Hanna didn't seem fazed by my shock. She stepped forward, holding up a couple of faded photographs. "I know this is a lot to take in, but I have proof."

I squinted at the pictures, my heart pounding. There was a photo of a baby—me—being cradled in the arms of a young woman who looked just like her. The other picture showed the same woman standing beside my mother, both of them smiling brightly. A wave of confusion washed over me.

"How do you know my mother?" I asked, my voice shaky.

Hanna took a breath, her expression softening. "Hope and I were sisters. I haven't seen you since you were a baby. I've looked for you for years, as soon as I found out about her passing.

A whirlwind of emotions surged through me—shock, confusion, and an unexpected twinge of excitement. I had never known my mother had a sister.

"Why now?" I managed to ask, my voice still wavering. "Why come here after all this time?"

"I never liked your father but, I loved my sister. I promised to always be there for her. Soon after you were born she cut contact with me, i assumed it was Sam who made her do it. I could find either of you. When I found out she had passed away I was heartbroken. I eventually found you and your dad, I wanted to get custody of you. I didn't want you to grow up with just him but it was battle I couldn't win." she said, her eyes glistening with tears.

I glanced back at Spencer, who stood behind me, a look of concern etched on his face. He gently squeezed my shoulder, grounding me. I turned back to Hanna, feeling an overwhelming mix of emotions. "I need time to process this. I don't understand."

"Of course," Hanna replied quickly. "I understand. I brought these pictures to show you I'm real. And if you'd like, I'd love to get to know you—whenever you're ready."