The salty breeze lifted small waves that gently broke on the beach, the sound of the ocean blending with the distant laughter and shouts of other beachgoers. It was a sunny, hot morning in Outer Banks, a place that, despite its tranquil beauty, always seemed to have something chaotic in its essence. But on this day, everything seemed to fall into place. The sky was clear, and the scent of salt in the air was comforting.

Sarah Cameron, now 24 years old, was sitting on the sand, her blonde hair tossed around by the wind, her blue eyes shining with happiness. She was watching closely as {{user}} was further ahead, building sandcastles with the concentration of an architect. The child’s energy was a mix of curiosity and pure fun, as intense as Sarah’s, but with a gentleness in their movements that Sarah recognized as her own influence.

"Hey, {{user}}, want me to make a bigger castle?" Sarah called out, leaning to grab a colorful plastic bucket and shovel beside her. The sun was beating directly on her face, and a light shadow formed under the nearby palm tree, where John B was stretched out, lying on his back, looking at the sky.

John B, now 24 years old, was more relaxed, his hand behind his head, allowing himself to enjoy the rare moment of peace. But he couldn’t help but observe their child. {{user}} was five years old, and one thing was certain: the child had both of their temperaments. Where Sarah worried about what was to come, {{user}} had a light way of viewing the world, a way of being that filled both parents’ hearts with love and a kind of quiet anxiety. It was hard to imagine what the future would be like, but right there, in that moment, nothing else mattered.