Adrian’s gaze flicked from Brayden to me, the lilies trembling slightly in his hand. For a moment, no one spoke. The air thickened.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” Adrian said finally, his voice calm but guarded. “Clara called. Said you’d gone into labor.”

He took a few steps inside, his presence soft but steady, a quiet contrast to Brayden’s storm. He set the flowers down beside the bassinets, his fingers brushing one of the ribbons tied around the newborns’ wrists. ...