Mother of nonuplets and triplets

rshipped her beauty, her poise, and her confidence. The international fashion scene had long hailed her as one of the greatest supermodels of her generation, a title she wore as effortle

nding their best photographer, and we need you on point for the cover shoot. This is your career, Clara. You can't afford to slip." "I won't," Clara assured her, though her words felt like they were floating away, detached from any real conviction. Back in the sleek luxury of her private car, Clara stared out at the Parisian streets. The city of lights was buzzing with energy, with life, but inside the car, all she could hear was the low hum of the engine. She leaned her head against the cool glass window, watching as the streets blurred into a whirlwind of neon and shadow. She had everything, didn't she? The fame, the fortune, the lifestyle that millions of women would kill for. Her face was on billboards, her image adored by countless fans. But as she sat there, in the stillness of her own thoughts, the same nagging question resurfaced. *Is this it?* Clara had spent years avoiding the question, burying it beneath the layers of makeup, designer clothes, and the endless cycle of photo shoots and runways. She had convinced herself that her career, her beauty, was enough. After all, wasn't this the life she had fought so hard for? But lately, the cracks in that façade had begun to show. Her mind drifted to the conversation she had overheard earlier that day, a couple of young models discussing their plans for the future. They had gushed about wanting families, husbands, and children, dreams that seemed to ignite something inside them. One had even spoken about the joy of motherhood, how it could change everything in the most beautiful way. Clara had scoffed at the notion. Children? A husband? That wasn't for her. It never had been. Clara Evans had no room in her life for that kind of distraction. She had built her entire world on being independent, unattached. Motherhood was the antithesis of

ers