Emma’s POV
The cravings hit again around midnight—impossible to ignore. I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Richard, who slept deeply beside me, one arm flung across the pillow I had just vacated. His breathing was slow and even, face relaxed in a way it rarely was when he was awake. I smiled at him for a moment, then padded barefoot down the hallway toward the kitchen.
The packhouse was quiet at this hour. Only a few low lights glowed in the corridors. I didn’t bother turning on the kitchen overheads—just flicked on the small lamp above the counter and opened the refrigerator.
Pickles.
Ice cream.
And the prenatal vitamins Dr. Patel had given me, sitting on the middle shelf in their little white bottle.
I reached for the ice cream first, then paused when I heard soft footst
