“These are my children,” she said, changing the subject abruptly, as if it were her way of reclaiming power over the conversation. Her gaze softened as she glanced down at the stroller. “They are my life now.”

He nodded, looking at the tiny faces peeking out from the blankets. “They’re beautiful,” he said, his voice choked with an emotion he couldn’t fully articulate.

“Thank you,” she replied, her tone softening for the first time. The wall around her heart was fortified by years of hurt, but even a fortress had its windows.