The quiet lingered, delicate and fleeting.
Nicole adjusted Juliet in her arms, brushing her thumb lightly over the infant's cheek. The baby stirred but did not wake, her tiny features relaxed in a way that made Nicole's chest ache with something warm and full.
Vincent shifted again in Jasper's hold, letting out a soft, sleepy sound. Jasper instinctively adjusted his grip, steady and protective, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against the child's back.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
They didn't need to.
Then a knock.
It was soft. Measured. Almost hesitant.
Jasper's eyes flicked toward the door immediately, the shift in him subtle but unmistakable. The calm didn't disappear but it tightened.
"Enter," he said, his voice low enough not to disturb the twins.
The door opened just enough for Rowland to step inside. He kept his posture straight, his gaze lowered not out of fear, but respect. And something else.
Awareness.
