The morning sun filtered through the curtains, painting soft stripes across the nursery walls. Grace woke first, stretching carefully, mindful of the growing bump she now cradled with every movement. She glanced over at Joan, who was already up, quietly folding a few baby onesies with a precision that seemed almost unnatural. Joan’s focus made Grace pause—there was a sense of watchfulness about her, and even now, in the quiet of the early hour, Grace could feel it.She walked into johnny’s room, saw Johnny still asleep, his arm draped over the edge of the bed, breathing softly. For a moment, Grace allowed herself a smile. Despite all the tension of the past weeks, Johnny’s presence brought a comforting warmth she hadn’t felt in months. He was here. He was steady. And for her, that was enough.Joan’s quiet movements around the house didn’t go unnoticed. Grace couldn’t help but watch her for a moment. There was an intent gaze behind Joan’s soft demeanor, a subtle calculation that sent a
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