Chapter 15: Protect Her
18 years ago.
It was mid-January. The wind howled faintly against the glass windows, and snow drifted in slow, lazy waves across the world outside.
But in this place, none of that could be seen.
Here, inside a bedroom bathed in a soft golden glow, there was only warmth.
The wide windows stood open to a view of gentle greenery. A soft warm breeze drifted in, carrying the faint scent of fresh blossoms. The atmosphere felt cocooned and still, untouched by winter’s bite — a space set apart from the rest of the world.
At the center of the room sat a wide king-sized bed, its snow-white sheets slightly wrinkled from use. Reclining against a stack of pillows was a woman with light blonde hair cascading loosely around her shoulders. Her eyes — a clear, soft blue — were rimmed with the weariness of labor. Yet, in their depths, a quiet brilliance lingered, filled with tenderness, pride, and that glow that could only belong to a mother.
Cradled in her arms was a newborn baby, swaddled in pale ivory cloth, sleeping soundlessly. She nursed her with quiet care, not speaking — just gazing down with an expression so gentle it seemed to melt through time itself.
Suddenly, the door opened with a quiet click.
And there, in the doorway, stood a child no older than three or four.
His hair was messy, his clothes wrinkled, and faint scratches lined his cheeks and arms, hinting at some earlier scuffle. His appearance told silent stories about his wild nature — but in this moment, he was quiet. Strangely so.
He stepped forward with small, careful movements. Hesitant. Like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed.
Elaine turned her head toward him. Her eyes softened, and a tired but warm smile touched her lips.