Life had settled into a chaotic kind of bliss. Between early mornings making pancakes shaped like dinosaurs, bedtime stories, and weekends spent running errands with the kids, you and Dean had built a family full of laughter, sticky fingers, and love. Even after years of hunting, he had traded monster hunts for soccer balls, baseballs, and scraped knees—though the stubborn spark in him never dulled.

Now, the school baseball field was alive with cheers and the smell of freshly cut grass. Your six-year-olds stood in their positions, concentrating fiercely, while Dean leaned over the bleachers, arms flailing as he shouted encouragement—and arguments—at the tiny 12-year-old referee. “What? It was NOT a foul! Damien just… swung the bat a bit too hard, it slipped!”