Page 113 of Rampage

The trio approaches cautiously, Alex and Jacob flanking Melody protectively as they peer down at the newborn. Melody's expression softens with wonder, her hand reaching out instinctively before pulling back.

"She's beautiful," she whispers, her green eyes meeting mine. "May I touch her?"

I nod, watching as she gently strokes Eleanor's cheek with a single finger. The twins hover close, their usually boisterous energy subdued in the presence of their niece.

"She's so tiny," Jacob marvels.

"But fierce," Alex adds with a grin. "Look at those fists. She's ready to fight the world already."

Reid chuckles, his arm tightening around my shoulders. "Just like her mother."

The cabin soon fills with more visitors—Lane and Mason arriving with armfuls of pink balloons, Christopher bringing a handmade wooden cradle that leaves me speechless with gratitude. My bakery staff sends an elaborate cake decorated with tiny pink booties.

Through it all, Eleanor remains remarkably calm, studying each new face with solemn curiosity before drifting back to sleep in the safety of my arms. Her tiny hand wraps around Reid's finger when he strokes her cheek, and the look of absolute adoration on his face makes my heart ache with happiness.

As evening approaches, our well-wishers gradually depart, promising to return tomorrow with more gifts and offers of help. Reid sees them out, thanking everyone for coming while firmly establishing that we need rest.

When he returns to the bedroom, he finds me nursing Eleanor, her tiny mouth working diligently as she feeds. He stops in the doorway, his expression softening into something so tender it brings tears to my eyes.

"I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love you," he says quietly, coming to sit beside us on the bed. "But somehow, my heart just expanded to include her too."

I lean against him, drawing strength from his solid presence. "I know exactly what you mean."

We sit in comfortable silence, watching our daughter nurse until her eyes grow heavy and she drifts to sleep. Reid carefully takes her from my arms, cradling her against his broad chest as he places her in the bassinet beside our bed.

"She's so tiny," he whispers, his finger gently stroking her cheek. "I've held organs in surgery that were bigger than her."

I giggle softly at the strange comparison. "Only a doctor would say something like that."

He smiles, not taking his eyes off Eleanor. "I keep thinking about everything she'll accomplish. Her first smile, first steps, first day of school." His voice drops lower, a hint of steel entering his tone. "I'll keep her safe, Lily. No one will ever hurt her. I swear it."

"I know you will." I reach for his hand, threading our fingers together. "Between you and the MC, she'll be the most protected little girl in the world."

Reid finally tears his gaze away from the sleeping baby to look at me, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you for giving me this family. For trusting me enough to build this life with you."

"We built it together," I correct him gently. "From the moment you found me at that diner, bleeding and terrified, we've been building this future."

He leans forward, pressing his forehead against mine. "I love you, Lily Matthews. More than my life."

"And I love you," I whisper, my eyes drifting to our sleeping daughter. "Both of you. More than I ever thought possible."

As night falls, Reid stretches out beside me on the bed, one arm protectively around my waist, his other hand resting lightly on Eleanor's bassinet. Outside, snow begins to fall, dusting the world in pristine white. But here in our cabin, wrapped in warmth and love, we've created our own perfect sanctuary.

I drift toward sleep, my body exhausted but my heart fuller than I ever dreamed possible.

Two Years Later

Reid

I come home to the sweetest sound, Eleanor's infectious giggle echoing through the cabin, followed by Lily's soft laughter. I pause in the doorway, taking a moment to absorb the scene before me. My wife sits cross-legged on the living room floor, her hair pulled back in a messy bun, flour dusting her cheek. Our daughter, all chubby cheeks and wild dark curls, stands wobbling on uncertain legs, clapping her hands with delight as a small tower of blocks crashes down.

"Again, Mama!" Eleanor demands, her vocabulary expanding daily in ways that constantly amaze me.

"One more time, then dinner," Lily promises, patiently rebuilding the tower.

Neither has noticed me yet, and I'm content to watch them, these two miracles who transformed my life in ways I never imagined possible. Eleanor has Lily's determined spirit and my stubborn chin, a combination that both delights and terrifies me when I think about her teenage years.

"Dada!" Eleanor spots me suddenly, her face lighting up with pure joy. She takes off at a run toward me, stumbling over a toy, and I catch her before she can hit the ground.

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