Elena’s POV

Morning sunlight filters through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold. The house feels unusually quiet, the kind of peaceful hush that only happens after a night filled with laughter and too many bedtime stories. Dean had insisted on three. Daniella had argued for four. Cole had negotiated it down to one and somehow ended up reading five. Now the twins are still asleep, and for once, I let myself move slowly, bare feet on cool tiles, hair still messy from sleep, the faint ...