Just hours before I was scheduled to announce my engagement to another woman in my family’s glass conservatory, my entire world turned upside down inside a restaurant restroom. I was wearing a custom tailored charcoal suit and my grandfather’s gleaming cuff links, preparing to cement a loveless business alliance orchestrated by my mother. My heart was absent from the impending proposal, treating it merely as an obligation to our family name. Everything changed when I spotted four little girls in matching navy blue dresses near the restroom sinks. They were around six years old, playfully arguing over a hand dryer, and when one brushed her brown hair behind her ear with a familiar nervous expression, my heart nearly stopped. The little girl proudly introduced herself as Willa, explaining that she and her sisters Tessa, Josie, and Penny were quadruplets. Looking into their bright green eyes and noticing a distinct dimple, I recognized the exact features of Isla Brennan, the woman I loved deeply seven years ago. I followed them into the dining room and was stunned to see Isla wearing a faded server apron, being reprimanded for keeping her
children in a cold storage room.
