TERESA'S P.O.V.
The next morning, I woke up with a strange heaviness in my chest, a whisper of doubt that seemed to have taken root overnight. It was as though a cloud hovered over me, drawing shadows on my thoughts, but I forced myself to shake it off.
I placed a hand over my stomach, gently pressing down as if I could somehow feel the tiny heartbeats I'd heard just yesterday. The whole thing felt surreal. I was going to be a mother. Me—clumsy, scatterbrained Teresa? The thought sent a thrill of excitement through me, closely followed by a wave of anxiety. My heart raced, and for the first time, I actually cared how fast it was beating. I wanted to keep myself calm, keep my pulse steady, as if somehow I could shield my babies from any sudden shock. The notion made me chuckle—it was both absurd and oddly comforting.
