Morning light spilled through the tall windows of the Vexley townhouse like liquid gold, stretching lazily across the expansive living room. Eliana Bennett lay curled on the plush velvet sofa, one hand resting on the gentle curve of her six-month-pregnant belly while the other scrolled absently through her phone. Her sweater was soft, her feet pleasantly sore—the good kind of ache that came from yesterday's indulgent shopping spree—and her lips curved into a faint smile at the memory of laughter echoing through luxury boutiques.
But beneath the warmth lingered something heavier.
