The late afternoon sun poured golden light into the living room, casting a warm glow over the space. Alistair was pacing back and forth, his hands clammy as he held a small, carefully folded letter in one hand and glanced nervously at the bouquet of roses resting on the table. Baby Sam, who was sitting in her playpen, looked up at him with wide, curious eyes as if sensing his restlessness.
“Alright, Sam,” Alistair said, crouching down to her level. “This is a big mission. Probably the most important one yet.”
Sam giggled, oblivious to the weight of his words. He smiled at her and reached out to gently ruffle her soft hair.
“You’re the key to this, you know,” he added. “She’ll say yes because of you. How could she not?”
Sam responded by grabbing at the letter in his hand, her tiny finge
