The dim lamp light barely illuminated the walls, casting soft shadows that danced with the movement of the wind outside. From the cradle, the soft sound of her baby's breathing filled the space with indescribable peace, as a constant reminder of the life they had created together.

Spencer was sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, torso tensed as she leaned in front of him. In his hands, a small open kit and a cotton soaked in disinfectant. From time to time, he inhaled deeply when the liquid touched the recent wounds on his abdomen and arms, but he did not complain. His eyes did not turn away from hers, fascinated by the concentration he showed while he worked.