The penthouse's master suite had softened in the late afternoon light, the heavy drapes partially drawn to mute the city's glare, creating a cocoon of hushed intimacy.
Sophia lay propped against a mound of pillows on the king-sized bed, her hand resting lightly on the gentle swell of her abdomen, the ultrasound printout from her morning check-up fanned out beside her like fragile talismans.
Nausea had ebbed into a weary calm, but the earlier tension lingered, knotting her shoulders.
Vivian sat on the bed's edge, her posture regal even in this domestic scene, a teacup balanced in her lap from the tray she had delivered.
She wore a cashmere cardigan over her blouse, pearls a subtle glint, her voice a soothing cadence honed from years of navigating Voss crises.
"You're doing wonderful
