So when Lucy told him she was pregnant, he felt something rupture inside—something joyful, something sacred. He held her, made wild promises, and whispered dreams he never dared to voice before. They were finally going to start a family. A boy would break the curse. A boy would redeem his bloodline.
The first ultrasound felt like magic—until the doctor pointed to the screen and said, “Two girls.” Lucy was laughing, weeping, glowing. Justin nodded, smiled, kissed her hand. But beneath the joy, a small ache settled in. He wanted to be happy. He was happy. But it wasn’t quite the dream.