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“We’re really going.”

“Do you…” She arches a brow. “Do you even speak Italian?”

I grin. “Of course. My family speaks it fluently along with French because of our upbringing. My father was born and raised in southern France, and my mother was from Italy.” I adjust my glasses. “I know a few others as well, including Mandarin and Russian.”

“And ASL?”

I grin. “And ASL.”

“Wow.” She appears genuinely impressed. “Your parents made you learn all of those languages?”

“What?” My brows furrow. “No. I was just bored in school and taught myself to give me something to do.”

She bites down on her smile that’s trying to break free.

I raise a brow. “What?”

She shakes her head, letting her smile show. “Nothing. You’re just not what I expected.”

Well, now I’m curious… “And what did you expect?”

She lifts one shoulder. “Someone…cold.” She settles back against my chest, inhaling deeply. “But the only thing I feel when I’m near you is…warmth.”

I instinctively tighten my hold around her.

Standing here with Clara asleep in one arm and Charlotte tucked safely beneath my other, everything feels right in the world. Just as it should.

But I can’t stop myself from wondering whether this is all only fleeting…or if there’s a sliver of a chance I might actually be lucky enough to keep this feeling forever.

To keep Charlotte forever.

A sharp cry rips me from sleep, and I bolt upright. I’m out of bed before I’m fully awake, grabbing my glasses off the nightstand as I head straight for Clara’s room.

I push open her bedroom door and peer inside.

Silence.

My brows pull together as I approach the crib, only to find Clara fast asleep, sprawled on her stomach with one chubby hand tucked beneath her cheek.

If it wasn’t Clara, then—

A scream tears through the hallway.

I quickly leave Clara’s room, shutting the door quietly behind me, and reach Charlotte’s room within seconds. My pulse pounds as I hold my palm in the air before the scanner, ready to force my way inside—then I stop.

I can’t just barge into her room. What if she—

Another scream cuts through the door, raw and terrified.

Answering my question for me.

I slam my palm against the scanner, and the second the door unlocks, I shove it open hard enough for it to slam against the wall.

My eyes immediately land on the bed, where Charlotte fights for her life against the white sheets tangled around her body. Moonlight spills across her face, illuminating the agony shadowed across her features. Tears streak down her cheeks as terrified sobs escape her lips.

My chest seizes at the sight of her enduring this invisible pain. I reach the bed in a few strides and gently stroke my knuckles over her cheek as she writhes.

“Charlotte,” I say softly.