“I’ve got it,” I replied from the doorway. “One giant, obnoxiously sparkly doll. Mission accomplished.”
She laughed—but there was something missing in it. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. Evie sat at the table, duck tucked under one arm, crayon clutched in the other, humming along with her mom. She looked up at me, tilted her head, and grinned. “Daddy, make sure she has real wings!”
“I’d never let you down, baby girl,” I said, tapping my leg to wake it before heading for the door. “I’ll be back soon.” It all felt so ordinary. Familiar. Safe. The kind of normal that only exists right before everything breaks.
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