It a girl

The sterile white of the examination room did little to calm Kiara’s racing heart. Milano's hand was a steady anchor in hers, his thumb stroking her knuckles in a silent reassurance that had become their language. The technician, a kind-faced woman with gentle hands, hummed softly as she moved the ultrasound wand over Kiara’s swollen abdomen. Images flickered on the screen, a ghostly dance of shadows and light. Kiara held her breath, her gaze fixed on the monochrome shapes, a knot of anticipation tightening in her chest.

Then, the technician’s hum shifted, a delighted gasp escaping her lips. “Oh, my!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening. “Look at this!”

Kiara’s breath hitched. Milano squeezed her hand, his own gaze riveted to the screen. The technician adjusted the wand, zooming in. Two distinct, tiny forms were visible, like miniature dancers suspended in the fluid. Two heartbeats, strong and steady, pulsed on the monitor.