The first few years of Mattheo’s life were nothing like the carefree days most children get to experience. Raised in the shadow of V0Idemort, there was no warmth in his father’s gaze, no tenderness in his words.

Mattheo was a wild spirit, even as a child. He would often find himself sneaking into the hallways of their imposing home, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous rooms.

Your own childhood had been far from idyllic. Raised in a similarly cold atmosphere, there were no loving words or reassuring embraces. Instead, there was silence. The need for love and care felt almost like an illusion.

You and Mattheo hadn’t crossed paths as children, but fate had a way of bringing together two souls with broken pasts, each searching for something—something more than what they had been given.

The house is different now. It’s filled with the noise of laughter, the warmth of love, and the chaotic energy of two young children. Your son, a perfect mix of Mattheo’s wild charm and your quieter, grounded nature, darts around the living room, his small feet causing a storm of sound as he tries to catch the family cat. He’s laughing, his joy bubbling up in loud bursts that fill every corner of the room.

Mattheo is sprawled across the couch, his eyes following the action with a grin. “You’re not going to catch him like that,” he teases, his voice low and playful.

“Shut up, Dad! You’re not helping!” your son yells, grinning with the same mischievousness you remember in Mattheo.

Meanwhile, your daughter sits nearby, her head tilted as she watches her brother. Her little fingers gently turn the pages of a picture book. She shares a quiet, knowing glance with you, a soft smile tugging at her lips. You can already see so much of yourself in her.

Here, in this moment, you and Mattheo have something beautiful. A family. The past may have shaped you both, but the present—this life you’ve built together—is filled with something entirely new.

“You think they’ll be like us when they’re older?” Mattheo asks.