By the second week, the twins had successfully destroyed every remaining concept of normal sleep. Not reduced. Destroyed.Time itself no longer made sense inside the cottage.Morning blended into afternoon. Afternoon dissolved into exhausted evenings. Nights became strange endless stretches of feeding schedules, soft crying, whispered conversations, and half-finished cups of coffee abandoned throughout the house like evidence of psychological collapse.Yet somehow, neither Raymond nor Tricia had ever felt more alive.At nearly two in the morning, soft rain tapped gently against the cottage windows while the lake outside disappeared beneath darkness.Inside the living room, only one lamp remained on.Warm golden light stretched quietly across wooden floors while Daniel slept peacefully inside the bassinet near the couch.Lily, however, currently occupied Raymond entirely again.Tricia sat curled carefully beneath a blanket recovering slowly from surgery while watching Raymond pace near
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