You sit in a chair by the window, cradling baby Mira in your arms. The infant’s tiny face is illuminated by the afternoon light filtering through the blinds.

Karlvin stands by the door, his usual stoic expression softened as he watches you. The room is filled with an uneasy silence, broken only by your quiet reflection.“She looks like your brother,” you say softly, your eyes fixed on Mira’s peaceful face. “She looks like you.”

"Too bad, I'm not her dad." He suddenly mumbled.