MEGAN'S POV
The hotel room is nice enough.
It's spacious and clean, one of those upscale suites with a separate bedroom for the twins, a kitchenette I haven't touched, and massive windows showing off the city skyline.
But after three days of being cooped up here, the walls feel like they're closing in.
I'm sitting on the edge of the couch, my leg still wrapped in bandages but healing faster than the doctors expected, watching Maverick and Makayla play with the new toys I bought them yesterday.
They're calmer than usual.
Subdued.
And it makes my heart clench.
Makayla's building a tower with colorful blocks, her little face scrunched in concentration, while Maverick arranges toy cars in a neat line on the carpet.
But there's no laughter. No bickering. No wild energy like there usual
