The private jet touched down gently on the sun-drenched runway of Athens International Airport. The morning light was golden, spilling over the tiled roofs and olive-green hills as if the country itself welcomed them with open arms.

Inside the jet, Cynthia leaned her head on Mike’s shoulder, her palm resting protectively over her tiny bump. Her other hand gripped his as the engines wound down. The days behind them had been turbulent—emotionally and physically. But this? This was the fresh air they had both longed for.

Mike glanced out the window, then turned to her, his thumb gently brushing her knuckles. “You ready to see Ava again?”

Cynthia nodded, but...