The next morning in the Donovan mansion was something out of another world. For once, Sabrina woke not from fear or grief, but from a soft, heavy kind of peace. Sunlight warmed her cheeks as she blinked awake to birdsong and distant voices downstairs.
She ran her hands gently over her belly and whispered good morning to the tiny life inside her.
Downstairs, Alicia had made blueberry pancakes — the thick, fluffy kind that made the whole kitchen smell like childhood and Saturday mornings. Brace was already seated at the table, hair damp from a shower, buttering a stack of waffles with lazy ease.
When Sabrina padded into the room, he stood automatically. “Sit. You’re not lifting a finger.”
Alicia shooed him with a smile. “She’s pregnant, dear. Not made of glass.”
“I know,” Brace said, ro
