The house still didn’t feel like home. Not yet.
It was a beautiful house—grand and sprawling, every inch of it designed with the kind of elegance money could buy. The rooms were filled with warm light and expensive furniture, and the twins’ playroom had been designed down to the last detail: soft rugs, bright colors, shelves lined with dinosaurs and dolls. It was perfect on paper.
But perfection didn’t equal comfort.
And the house still felt… empty.
Sebastian stood in the middle of the playroom, surrounded by scattered toys and books, the remnants of their morning routine left behind. It should’ve been a happy mess—a sign of life, of laughter and play. Instead, it just felt like evidence of how far away they still were from being a family.
Because the twins still kept their distance.
