The Seed Beneath the Flame
The morning air was sweet, thick with the scent of blooming hibiscus that curled around the sanctuary’s garden paths. Nova walked slowly, barefoot on the dew-speckled stones, her hand resting lightly on her lower abdomen, not out of pain, but in awe.
The test was positive.
Twice.
She was carrying a child.
A new Turner.
A new Caldwell.
A new flame.
She hadn’t told Liam yet. Not because she was afraid, but because this moment, this truth, was the first she wanted to hold close. Just for a little while. Just until it felt real.
Grace found her under the old oak tree, the one where the wedding vows still echoed in the bark. The elderly woman sat beside her, tucking her shawl around her shoulders even though the air was warm.
“You’ve been quiet,” Grace said.
