Chapter 65 The Glass Between Us

Christian Six months. One hundred and eighty-something days of waking up to the sounds of cooing, crying, and soft lullabies echoing through the walls of my house. The nursery was always warm, the scent of baby powder lingering in the air like some kind of enchantment. Three tiny lives—two boys and a girl—born on the same day, from the same woman who had changed everything I thought I knew about love.