Masuk*Kiera* As the applause fills the room, a rush of disbelief washes over me. I can hardly wrap my mind around the gravity of what just unfolded. It’s as if time has slowed to a crawl; my heart races, each beat echoing in my ears, while my feet barely seem to touch the ground as I rush off the sidelines towards Will. He stands just off the stage, his face flushed with exhilaration, and I can see the warmth in his eyes as I approach him, a beacon of light amidst the swirling chaos around us. “You were incredible,” I breathe, wrapping my arms around him, feeling the strength of his body, the warmth of his presence grounding me in this whirlwind moment. He pulls me close, and I lift my face to meet his, our lips connecting in a kiss that feels like a promise, a vow that binds our hearts together in this wild, unpredictable world. When we pull away, the fire in his eyes ignites something deep within me… a mixture of pride, admiration, and an overwhelming sense of love. “You really did it
*Kiera* I had no idea about the press conference before Candy sent me a message to get to the office immediately. Walking into the grand foyer just in time to see Will take a spot behind a table on a small stage beside Candy, has me stopping in my tracks. It seems like every rapporter in New York is here. I hold my breath as Will leans forward, his forearms folded on the table. “Thank you for coming.” His deep voice is like a balm. “I felt it was time to break my silence about the events that have been unfolding for me personally over the last few weeks.” There’s a shuffle amongst the press as they eagerly await the chance to snag a useful sound bite. “Some time ago, I announced my marriage to Kiera Hart,” he begins. “I said then that I would only make one statement regarding our marriage, and I meant it. As an exceptionally private person, I consider any details about my life with my wife to be off limits for the press.” He looks slowly down the lens of each camera as he spea
*Will* I push open the front door, the familiar creak greeting me like an old friend. The scent of something warm and inviting wafts from the kitchen, but it’s the sight in the living room that draws me in. Kiera is bent over a massage table, a bit of dust dancing in the air as she wipes it down with a cloth. “Hey there,” I call out, my heart swelling at the sight of her, focused and determined. Her hair falls in soft waves, framing her face as she looks up, the hint of a smile already brightening her expression. “Look what I found,” she says, straightening up and brushing her hands on her jeans. “It was in the storage room. I thought it could be useful for Frida when she gets the cast off. You know, for some extra TLC.” I step closer, curiosity piquing. “You think she’ll go for that?” Kiera chuckles, a light, melodic sound. “With pizza afterwards? She’ll be all in.” I laugh too, but then I remember the day I first brought the table home. “I actually bought it for myself at o
*Will* Cheryl, the social worker, sits at the kitchen table across from me, her fingernails clicking on her keyboard. She wears rings on all her fingers and bangles on both wrists that clink faintly each time she moves. She’s interviewing us for our second home study report. We’ve been at this for an hour, with no end in sight. Kiera has already refilled each of our coffee mugs twice. On her third attempt, Cheryl covered the top of her mug with her hand. “Any more java, and I’ll cartwheeling out of here.” Now she sits next to me, her knee bouncing with nervous energy. She had her time in the hot seat yesterday. Cheryl interviewed her for over three hours, asking a range of questions about her early life, her upbringing, and her current relationship with his family. She quizzed her in detail on her connections to her nieces and nephews, her experiences as a parental figure. They talked about Frida, of what she means to Kiera. I listened with pride as she spouted off everything from
*Kiera* Well, we’re right back where we started, sitting on the couch in Candy’s office, waiting for her to tell us how she’s going to make this all go away again. The only difference is that her lovely receptionist has been replaced by a highly competent Korean college student named Yoon Hee. Will sits next to me, looking as relaxed as I’ve ever seen him. Why is he not more upset about all this? Why isn’t he freaking out? It’s been two days, and Tina is still a mess. Now Candy is pacing, and I feel like I have gravel churning in my stomach. But he’s just sitting there, sipping the coffee Yoon Hee brought us, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He catches my anxious stare and smiles, placing a hand on my thigh. “Can’t even go away for three weeks without it all going to hell in a hand basket,” Candy mutters, still pacing. “Sorry, Candy.” She spins around in her heels. “Oh, Kiera, don’t you apologize, honey. This isn’t your fault. It’s not your fault either,” she qu
*Will* I walk down the hall and accept the call, worrying if something has happened with mom, since it is him calling. “Hey, Dad.” “Oh, Will, what have you done?” He instantly say, but I can hear from his voice and tone that this is one of his good days… one of the few where his mind is clear. Closing the door to the bedroom, I sit down on the edge of the bed and try for a tone of levity. “I take it the story about my new devilish reputation has arrived in Denmark?” “This is no laughing matter, son. A reporter came to the house this afternoon.” He is starting to sound worried and upset… less clear. My heart stops. “What? Is mom there? Can I talk to her?” There is a bit of commotion and my mom’s voice sound on the other end. “Your father insisted on calling you himself.” “Is he okay?” I ask and then add. “What is this with a rapporter showing up?” “He asked all kinds of questions, upsetting your father, confusing him with rumors of your infidelity. The questions played wi
*Will* The shrill sound of my alarm cuts through the soft cocoon of sleep, and I blink awake, confusion swirling in my mind. I haven’t felt this rested in a long time, and as I glance down, I see Kiera, all but wrapped around me, her head nestled against my shoulder. Her hair brushes against my ch
*Kiera* “No!” Is the first he says. “I was… tonight… altså… it was... møg… I mean.” Will stumbles over his words, and I can see the frustration building behind his eyes. His Danish slips out, punctuated by his stuttering, and I can’t help but tilt my head, trying to lighten the mood. “Did your in
*Will* I open the book, revealing the vibrant illustrations of dragons dancing through the skies. “This one is about a dragon named Ember who learns to overcome her fears.” I begin to read, my voice low and soothing, aiming to pull both Frida and Kiera into the enchanting world of the story. “Onc
*Kiera* My heart pounds in my chest as I feel the weight of Will’s grip. He’s not just holding me; he’s anchoring himself to me as if I’m his lifeline. I can feel the heat radiating off his skin, the sweat mingling with the frantic energy coursing through him. I know he’s trapped in that nightmare







