Rachel Steele Pregnant -

Then, a cry. Small, furious, alive.

It wasn’t supposed to be possible. The doctors had been clear years ago—a condition, a slim chance, a gentle apology. Rachel had made peace with it, channeling all her quiet nurturing into the dusty relics and the stray cat, Juniper, who slept on the cash register. The father was a ghost in the most literal sense: a fleeting, beautiful summer affair with a traveling cartographer named Leo, who had vanished into the misty moors one September morning and never returned. No number worked. No address existed. He was as real as a myth. rachel steele pregnant

And Ariadne? She sleeps soundly, one tiny fist curled around the compass, dreaming of a father who is never really gone—just waiting at the next threshold, for the right moment to step through. Then, a cry