The evening air was thick with the scent of rain, the soft patter of droplets against the glass a quiet backdrop to the storm brewing inside the house. Isabelle stood at the edge of the twins’ playroom, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she watched Sebastian help Elliott with a puzzle. The soft glow of the lamp cast their faces in warm light — a picture of quiet contentment that should have soothed her.
It should have been a sweet moment — a father bonding with his son, laughter bubbling up in soft bursts as they worked together — but all Isabelle could feel was the slow, creeping sense of being pushed out.
“Try this one,” Sebastian said, his voice warm and patient as he handed Elliott a piece.
Elliott grinned when it fit perfectly. “You’re getting better at this,” he teased.
Seba
