The days that followed were softer.
Slower.
More careful.
Daniel became even more protective of Marian.
He insisted on doing almost everything.
“You sit,” he would say every morning.
“Daniel—”
“No arguments,” he would cut in, already flipping something in the pan.
Marian would watch him, half amused, half emotional.
Because beneath his stubbornness—
Was fear.
The same fear she carried.
Isabella, on the other hand, stayed close.
Closer than before.
If Marian moved to the kitchen, Isabella followed.
If Marian sat on the couch, Isabella curled beside her.
“Mama, are you okay?” she would ask often.
“I’m okay, my love,” Marian would answer, always with a smile.
And slowly, Isabella began to include the baby in her world.
One afternoon, Marian found her sitting on the floor, t
