SUSAN’S POV
When the taxi pulled up in front of the little yellow house with white shutters, I sat still for a moment, my hands resting over my swollen belly. The twins had been restless all morning, as if they could sense that this was something new, something different. My legs ached from the trip, my back throbbed, and I was more tired than I wanted to admit. But as I looked out at the palm trees swaying gently in the warm Florida breeze, I felt something I hadn’t felt in months—hope.
I had left New York City behind. The noise, the shadows, and the weight of memories I couldn’t carry anymore—they were all back there. This was a fresh start, and I had Isla Rowling’s and Mark Peters to thank for it. Without them, I don’t know if I’d have had the courage to leave.
Mark was already waiti
