Amelia POV

The morning light poured softly through the kitchen curtains, casting warm gold streaks across the countertop. I hummed quietly as I buttoned Luke’s shirt, his small laughter bubbling through the air. His joy was infectious — the kind of sound that made everything else fade, even the restless dreams that had haunted me through the night.

“Hold still, little monster,” I teased, straightening his collar.

He giggled and wriggled away. “Mommy, it’s perfect ...