In the quiet of the evening, as the sun dips low, the world outside whispers, a familiar song, and her heart stirs— a melody from long ago, memories entwined with the present, like vines on an old trellis. She sits in the dim light, hands resting on her round belly, a cradle of life, where hopes and fears collide, each flutter of the child within, a gentle reminder of who she was, who she is becoming.