April 10, 1893
The presidential residence was calm that evening, a rare reprieve from the constant meetings, briefings, and decisions that consumed Matthew Hesh's time. For once, the noise of politics was distant. In their private quarters, Matthew found peace with his wife and newborn son, Maverick.
Amber sat in a cushioned rocking chair near the large window, cradling Maverick gently in her arms. The baby stirred, letting out soft coos as Amber whispered soothing words to him. The warm glow of the evening sun bathed the room in amber light, making the moment feel timeless.
Matthew stood near the bed, silently watching the scene before him. He admired Amber's tender care, her motherly instincts shining through with every gentle touch. Her hair, tied loosely, framed her face, and her eyes sparkled with warmth as she gazed down at their child.
"You're amazing," Matthew said softly, breaking the silence.
