Three years into the marriage, she had fought heaven, hell, and every meddling Winthrop to achieve; Theresa Lopez‑Fitzgerald Winthrop woke before dawn with a hand over her belly. The house was quiet-Ethan's steady breathing beside her, Jane's soft snoring down the hall, little Ethan's nightlight glowing like a tiny star. And beneath her palm, a flutter. A promise. A miracle. She smiled into the dark. Then she slipped out of bed before Ethan could wake and see the fear in her eyes. Disclaimer: NBC and Passions own the characters. I am using the characters in a story of my own.