Evelyn sat stiffly on the edge of her bed, her hands clenched in her lap as she listened to the soft knock at the door. A second later, the door creaked open, and Margret stepped in, her newborn swaddled tightly in her arms. The candlelight flickered across her weary face, illuminating the exhaustion and worry etched into her features.
Evelyn's chest tightened at the sight of her sister, the woman she had wronged more than anyone else, yet who still stood before her now. She wanted to speak—to beg for forgiveness again—but Margret’s cold silence stilled her tongue.
Instead, Margret’s gaze swept across the room before she stepped forward, her voice hushed but firm.
"Evelyn, I want you to listen to me very carefully," she said, setting the child down in the wooden cradle near the bed. "To
