The day had barely begun, and Isabelle was already exhausted.
She sat at the breakfast table, chin in hand, staring at a slice of toast she had no intention of eating. The kids were chatting excitedly—Amelia was trying to convince Eliott to wear a matching scarf to school, and he was protesting with dramatic flair.
“Scarves are for babies,” he announced, arms folded.
“They are not,” Amelia countered. “Scarves are fashion.”
Isabelle managed a small smile as she watched them bicker. Under normal circumstances, she might have jumped in, gently refereed or offered a distraction. But this morning, everything felt… heavy. Sluggish.
Sebastian looked up from his coffee. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she replied, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just didn’t sleep well.”
He frowned slight
