Michael stood paralyzed with a tumult of emotions swirling within him. His instincts screamed to intervene, but he wanted to be sure of what he was witnessing. He needed to know if his fears were justified or if paranoia, heightened by the stress of his work and his wife’s tragic passing, was getting the better of him.
Taking a deep breath, Michael pushed the door open wider and stepped inside the nursery. The room was filled with the soft, pastel colors that he had painstakingly chosen himself. Emily’s crib was situated by the window, overlooking the expansive garden where he imagined she would one day play. But right now, his focus was solely on the scene in front of him.
