Thank you to an unnamed reader for your idea. I won’t mention who you are yet or what the idea is, but you know who you are. ❤️
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14
Isla’s Point of View
Valentina winced when Luc was settled into the front carrying harness. I carried Carla — lighter and smaller.
“Are you okay?”
“Just takes some getting used to — the weight out front, pressing against my breasts. You are battle-hardened.”
“I’m a milking machine.”
“I wish I were.”
We laughed together, adjusted the straps on our harnesses, checked that both babies could see and were happy, then kissed our husbands and set off to the village.
Luc had slept better last night. Not well — better. He faced outward from Valentina’s harness, his eyes wide, his legs kicking at the morning. Carla slept against my chest, her face turned into the warmth of my neck, breathing the slow, shallow breath of a newborn who considered the world a matter for later.
