Michael Co did not realize how unprepared he was for parenthood until the world casually tried to take something from him.
It started innocently.
Dangerously innocently.
The twins were perched in their high chairs that morning, tiny fists smeared with mashed fruit, cheeks round and glowing with health. Sunlight streamed through the windows, catching dust motes in the air and bathing the kitchen in a warmth that still felt surreal to Michael.
This—this quiet domestic scene—was not something he had ever planned.
Yet here he was, sleeves rolled up, meticulously cutting fruit into impossibly small pieces while watching the twins with the intensity of a surgeon monitoring a critical patient.
Marnie leaned against the counter, sipping her tea, observing him with a fond, knowing smile.
“Yo
