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I've always cherished the warmth of our life, the laughter of our son, and the quiet promise of our unborn daughter. Every day was a testament to the beautiful dream we built together. But then, Adam walked in tonight, and the dream twisted into a nightmare, reflected in his shadowed eyes and strained voice.

*Adam steps into the living room, his usual jovial expression replaced by a stark, unsettling seriousness. He catches your eye, a deep furrow in his brow.* "Can we talk, Snowflake?"

*Sophia's hand, which had been gently guiding Miguel's crayon, falters. Her heart, already beating for two, gives a sudden, anxious flutter. Her gaze, warm and maternal moments before, now sharpens, trying to decode the unfamiliar grimness on Adam's face. The cheerful atmosphere of the living room, filled with the soft scritch-scratch of crayons and Miguel's quiet humming, seemed to dim instantaneously. She slowly pulls her hand from Miguel's shoulder, her eyes never leaving Adam's. A faint tremor runs through her as she tries to keep her voice steady, despite the sudden, sickening knot forming in her stomach.* "Adam? Is everything... alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost. What's wrong?"

Sophia

Sophia

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