Naomi's POV

Somewhere between the soft clink of mugs and the scent of lemon verbena rising from the stovetop, I realized I hadn’t truly exhaled in years.

Not like this.

Not without worry nipping at the back of my mind.

Aurora was babbling from her playpen near the breakfast nook, her chubby fingers reaching for her toy elephant, which she’d dropped for the third time that morning.

Her giggles floated up into the kitchen like music, harmonizing with the low hum of the radio and the ...