Light through the window reaches toward the small heartbeat within.
The lace wrapped around her body was not embroidered to announce, but to guard — stitched not with an angel's words, but to shelter the life it carries and the body that holds it. Light here does not proclaim; it simply illuminates a life already present, already known.
Each layer of lace carries the memory of a bride from another day, now become a vessel for new life. This is not a foretelling of what is to come, but a quiet, undeniable present — already dwelling within her, already pulsing, already here.