NADIA
I watched her tiny fingers curl around mine, soft and warm, so delicate yet full of life. My baby. Her breathing was gentle and steady, like a quiet rhythm that calmed every storm inside me. She looked like me, everyone said so. And as I stared at her little face, I believed it. From her dark lashes to the tiny curve of her lips. She was mine. Ours.
A soft hum left my lips, the melody familiar but broken in places. My heart felt heavy, but I kept humming. The tune had comforted me once, during darker days, and now I sang it for her. But deep inside, I was worried. Not about myself, but about him.
Asher.
Where was he? Was he okay? The war was just a day away, and he barely slept. Always in the field, always training. Always planning. The burden on his shoulders was heavy, and I could feel it pressing on mine too. Even now, surrounded by warmth, I could sense the storm creeping closer.
The door opened.
I looked up, and there he was.
Asher.
