RICHARD’S POV—THREE YEARS LATER I ran around the living room, chasing our twins in some endless game of tag. They were shrieking with laughter, little feet pounding on the floor, and honestly, it was the best sound in the world. But just as I made a playful grab for them, Amelia walked in with a tray of biscuits and gave me one of her classic mom-glares.“Really, Richard?” she said, exasperated but trying not to smile. “If you keep chasing them like that, they’re going to fall. And then who’s getting up at night with them when they’re crying? Not me, that’s for sure.”I stopped in my tracks and threw my hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright! You win. Kids, you heard your mother. Grab a biscuit and calm down, alright? Before we all get grounded.”The twins scrambled toward the tray, wide-eyed and hungry like they hadn’t just had breakfast an hour ago. Amelia rolled her eyes at me, handing the kids each a biscuit before turning her gaze on me.“No biscuit for you, mister,” she tease