~Selene Ashford's POV~
The appointment is at nine in the morning.
She has been awake since half past six, which is not unusual at this stage — the twins have developed strong opinions about the predawn hours and express them with the unhurried authority of people who have not yet been introduced to the concept of her preferences. She dresses slowly, eats what she can manage, and walks the four blocks to Dr. Amara's clinic in the cool of the early morning with her hands in her coat pockets and her breath visible in the air.
The velvet box is in her left pocket. It always is.
She has carried it since the day she left Cresthaven, through the three-hour drive south and the first disorienting weeks in Silvermere and the long middle months of building something from the wreckage of what was
