Elsa’s POV
The shadows cling to the corners of the packhouse, but they offer no comfort tonight. Nothing does. I pace slowly along the polished wooden floors, heels clicking softly, a rhythm that echoes my frustration back at me. My lips press together as I replay the scene in the children’s room, Amelia cooing, Ryan smiling, their hands intertwined, their voices warm, unshakable. The words still echo in my head: “You’re going to have a baby sister.” Every syllable is a slap against my composure, a cruel reminder of how much I have been left out, how much I’ve been forced to watch while they parade their happy family before me.
My hands curl into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I force myself to breathe slowly, methodically, trying to suppress the roiling storm inside m
