Five years had blurred into a tapestry of quiet routines and unspoken truths on the private island.

I stood on the same cliff where I had made my final choice all those years ago, the wind tugging gently at my hair. My hand rested on my belly I was pregnant again, our fourth child already making its presence known with strong, steady kicks. Elias, now five, chased Seraphina across the sand below while little Aurora toddled after them, her laughter carried on the breeze.

This was our world.

No outsiders. No judgments. Only us.

Daddy approached from behind, silent as always until he wanted to be known. His arms wrapped...