The morning sun crept over the horizon, casting golden rays across the driveway as Ava helped carry Cynthia’s designer luggage toward the black cab parked outside the estate. A soft chill floated in the air, but it couldn’t match the heavy warmth tugging at her chest.

Cynthia stood by the door in a cream trench coat, her arms carefully cradling the baby wrapped in a plush pink blanket. Her eyes shimmered with sleep and sentiment. Mike stood protectively beside her, wearing a dark wool coat and sunglasses perched on his nose. His expression was unreadable—but one glance at his wife and daughter softened the lines around his mouth.

Ava brushed...