KELLY THOMPSON'S POV
The pages of ancient prophecies whispered under my fingertips, each word heavy with the weight of potential fates. My brow knitted in concentration, I leaned closer to the tome sprawled on the desk, its secrets just shy of revealing themselves. It was a relentless pursuit, this scouring of knowledge—yet one I could not afford to forsake.
"Kelly?" The voice of my husband, Jason, sliced through the silence of my studious solitude. His tone carried the warmth and lightness that had been missing from this room for hours. I glanced up to find him framed in the doorway, our son Eden by his side, both grinning as if they'd shared a secret joke between them.
"Have you unearthed the legends of old yet, or shall we send for more candles?" Jason teased, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he approached—tall, resolute, the very picture of strength.