Tessa Monroe was on the floor with Grant’s eighteen-month-old son pressed against her chest, one arm curved around the back of his head while she struggled to catch her breath. The child’s face was buried against her shoulder, his small body shaking with the uneven sobs that came after crying too hard for too long.

Three months later.

The summer sun washed over the sprawling backyard garden of Mercer Manor. The scent of blooming jasmine and fresh-cut grass filled the warm air.

In the center of the lawn, a brand-new wooden playground set had been installed, complete with swings, a slide, and a covered clubhouse.

Leo was running across the grass wearing a pair of blue denim overalls, chasing a golden retriever puppy that Grant had bought for his second birthday. His bright, toddler laughter rang out like silver bells across the grounds.

On the patio, a long wooden table was set with fresh flowers, pitchers of lemonade, and a spread of summer fruit.

Tessa Monroe sat at the table, reviewing a thick binder of child psychology research. She had recently been appointed as the Director of the newly established Elena Mercer Foundation for Maternal Health—an organization funded by Mercer Global to support mothers recovering from birth trauma and post-partum illness.

Elena walked out of the kitchen carrying a tray of fresh iced tea. She looked radiant—her cheeks had regained their healthy pink color, her smile genuine and relaxed.

“Take a break, Tessa,” Elena laughed softly, setting a glass down beside her. “You’ve been staring at those grant applications for two hours.”

Tessa looked up, smiling as she took the glass. “I just want to make sure the first sanctuary opens on schedule in October, Elena. What you’re doing with this foundation is going to save hundreds of women from going through what you experienced.”

“We couldn't have done it without you,” Elena said, sitting down across from her. She looked out at Leo playing on the lawn. “When I was trapped in that clinic, knowing you were here protecting Leo was the only thing that kept my heart beating.”

Grant walked out onto the patio from his study, wearing a casual linen shirt with his sleeves rolled up. He carried a small wooden box under his arm.

He walked over to his wife, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head before sitting down beside her.

“What’s in the box, Daddy?” Leo called out, running up the patio steps, his puppy tumbling playfully behind his heels.

Grant picked Leo up, setting him on his lap. He opened the wooden latch of the box and pulled out a sleek, modern camera lens—a professional camera setup.

“Your mother used to be the best architectural photographer in the city before we got married,” Grant said, looking at Elena with deep admiration. “It’s time she got her studio back.”

Elena looked at the camera in the box, her breath catching in her throat. She looked at Grant, her eyes brimming with happy tears.