The next days passed in a blur, as if time itself had softened around Lena.
For the first time in years, she didn’t wake up to the shrill alarm on her phone or the dull anxiety pressing on her chest. There were no spreadsheets waiting, no forced smiles in hallways, no careful calculations of how much of herself she had to swallow just to get through another workday. Instead, there was quiet. Morning light. The slow ritual of tea instead of coffee. The freedom to move at her own pace.
And she needed it.
Her body felt heavier with each passing day, the twins growing fast, stretching her skin, demanding more rest, more nourishment, more patience. Some mornings she woke up already tired, her lower back aching, her feet swollen before she even stood up. Other days, she felt them move in unis
