I thought of the long nights I had spent cleaning his house, carrying my own grief in silence.

“I want to help you raise them,” I said.

“Then it’s settled,” he said.

We walked out of the corporate offices together, leaving the polished glass tower behind.

The drive back to Lake Forest was quiet.

The autumn leaves were beginning to fall along the lakeside drive.

When we arrived at the mansion, the heavy iron gates opened slowly.

The house looked different now, less like a fortress of grief and more like a home.

Mrs. Gable met us at the door, her face anxious.

“Is it done?” she asked.

“It’s done, Mrs. Gable,” Ethan said, handing her his coat.

“The babies are just waking up,” she said, her face softening.

We walked up the grand staircase toward the nursery.

The hallway was bright, the heavy drapes having been pulled back to let the afternoon sun in.

I pushed the nursery door open.

The four cribs stood in a neat row, the soft blue and pink blankets tucked around the infants.

Liam was wiggling his small fists in the air.