The kitchen smelled of fresh-cut strawberries and warm bread, the soft sounds of the twins playing drifting through the open window. Their laughter floated into the room, light and carefree, blending with the rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the neighborhood. It was the kind of perfect afternoon Isabelle usually cherished — the kind that eased the weight she so often carried.
But today, even the sweetness of their joy couldn’t quiet the storm in her mind.
She stood at the sink, her hands motionless on the dish she was drying, her eyes focused on the backyard. Elliott chased Amelia around the swing set, their giggles rising in bursts as they tumbled through the grass. They were happy. Untouched by the uncertainty swirling just below the surface of their world.
And Isabelle wanted
