"Don't argue. What are best friends for if not to help when you're pregnant with secret billionaire twins?"

I laughed despite myself, the sound strange and unfamiliar after months of silence and fear.

"Look," Samantha continued, "I can be there this weekend. I've got a system now—switch cars, different disguises. I'm basically a spy."

"A spy who works at an accounting firm."

"Hey, numbers are my superpower. Speaking of which, I've been working on a financial plan for you. With twins, you'll need to adjust the budget."

I glanced at the ultrasound photos again. "Everything needs to be adjusted."

After we hung up, I moved to the small kitchen table...