Mary and Giselle hurried over, their hearts racing. Hours dragged by with no further signs of change—until two more eggs began to tremble. The girls squealed, clinging to each other as cracks spread across the shells.
Anticipation thickened the air. Each breath, each heartbeat carried the weight of a miracle. Then, with a final crack, something small and glistening pushed free.
Jack’s eyes widened. His breath caught in his throat. “Dear God…” he whispered.
The creature unfurled from the shell, shimmering feathers glinting faintly in the morning light. Not a monster. Not a threat.
A peacock chick.
Jack staggered back, tears streaming before he could stop them. His past rushed in—memories of the peacock he had raised as a boy, his beloved companion long gone. He had never raised another, never dared. Until now.
“Bonnie! Come quick!” he cried, voice breaking.
She rushed to his side, and together they watched as more eggs stirred, more tiny beaks broke free. She gasped in wonder, clutching Jack’s trembling hand.
“They’re beautiful,” she whispered.