The cursor blinked on my screen, mocking my empty thoughts. I rubbed my swollen belly—six months pregnant now, and unmistakably showing with twins. The clock on my laptop read 2:37 AM. Another sleepless night.
I needed this design job. The client had offered double my usual rate for a rush project, and with the medical bills piling up, I couldn't afford to miss the deadline.
"Come on, Anna," I muttered to myself, the name still foreign on my tongue even after months of use. "Focus."
My tiny apartment had transformed over the past three months. The secondhand furniture remained, but now a corner of the living room housed my makeshift design studio—a decent computer purchased with Samantha's money, a drawing tablet, and stacks of design books. My old life as an interior designer for the w
