Riley woke up to the soft hum of the heater in her apartment, the gray light of morning filtering through the curtains. She stretched lazily, her thoughts drifting to the date. December 30th. Tomorrow was New Year’s Eve. The realization brought a sudden pang of nostalgia—not for any particular tradition, but for the solitude and simplicity she’d planned for herself this year. Before baby Sam had arrived in her life, she had entertained the idea of booking a flight to a quieter state, perhaps Montana or somewhere equally remote, where she could sip coffee in peace while watching snow blanket the landscape.
Those plans now felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by the whirlwind of events revolving around Alistair and baby Sam. She sighed, picking up her phone from the nightstand. Maybe he
