The Cottage in Oakhaven
Three months passed.
The autumn air in the coastal village of Oakhaven was crisp, carrying the sweet scent of burning applewood, salt marsh, and fallen maple leaves.
Maya stood in the kitchen of a small, two-story cedar-shingled cottage overlooking the harbor. The kitchen was warm and filled with natural light—open pine shelving, hand-thrown ceramic jars filled with tea leaves, and a large farmhouse table covered in architectural blueprints and baby toys.
Clara, now three months old with rosy cheeks and bright, curious hazel eyes, sat in a wooden high chair, babbling happily as she batted at a soft plush elephant.
The front screen door opened with a cheerful creak.
Dr. Sarah Linwood walked in, carrying a basket of fresh organic vegetables from her family’s farm down the lane.
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"Pediatric wellness report from the field," Sarah smiled warmly, setting the basket on the counter and walking over to kiss Clara’s chubby cheek. "Her weight is in the eighty-fifth percentile, motor milestones are exceptional, and her mother looks remarkably well-rested."
Maya laughed, pouring two mugs of hot apple cider. "It’s amazing how well you sleep when the doors are unlocked by choice, Sarah."
