The alarm buzzed before dawn, its shrill note slicing through the quiet. Emma silenced it with a swift hand, her eyes heavy with sleep. She glanced at the boys curled up beside her— Ethan’s arm sprawled protectively across Evan’s tiny chest. Her heart tugged. Evan’s breathing was shallow, too shallow.
Carefully, she slipped out of bed, tugged on her sweater, and padded into the kitchen. The kettle hissed as she poured water into a cup, steam curling upward, fogging the small window. She moved quickly— packing Ethan’s lunch, slipping a tiny note into his box, a doodle of a smiling sun he always loved to find.
“Mommy?” Ethan’s small voice made her turn. He stood at the doorway, hair sticking up in wild tufts, rubbing his eyes.
“Good morning, love.” Emma crouched, kissed his forehead, then
