Chapter 90

Two months later, everything was supposed to be calm.

That was the plan. Dan had cleared his schedule. Marcy had finished decorating the nursery. Alessia’s tiny clothes were washed, folded, and arranged by color, because Marcy believed even newborn chaos deserved a sense of order.

The world was ready for the baby.

The problem was that Marcy’s body had its own timeline—and the universe had a wicked