6. Mia
The laughter around the dining table settled into a gentle, contented quiet. Warm steam curled from the tea cups, sunlight danced on the plates, and for a moment everything felt perfect—safe, whole.
But then Marcelline paused, her eyes moving around the table.
A small frown formed on her lips.
The seat beside her—one she had specifically prepared with a tiny cushion and a little pink plate—was empty.
She looked at Amara, displeasure tightening her expression.
"Amara," she said firmly, "where is Mia? Didn't she say she wanted to join me for breakfast today? Where is my baby?"
Amara froze mid-bite.
Leo's ears perked up. Alpha blinked. Paradus slowly set down the pancake he had been trying to steal.
Sister Florence hid a smile behind her cup—she knew this tone well. Marcelline had many sides, but the "protective mother" side only belonged to one person:
Little Mia.
Three-year-old, bright-eyed, sunshine-hearted Mia—Amara's daughter, but Marcelline's entire world.
Amara raised both hands as if surrendering to a dangerous queen.
"She—she was sleepy!" she stammered. "I told her breakfast is ready, but she pulled up her blanket, glared at me, and said, 'No! I sleep with Auntie Elli!' How was I supposed to argue with that?"
Marcelline's expression softened immediately.
"Oh my precious angel…" she whispered, the slight irritation dissolving into overflowing affection. "She must still be tired…"
Alpha's tail thumped gently on the floor. Paradus let out a soft chirping sound—he, too, adored the tiny girl who rode on his back like a royal princess. Leo rumbled proudly; Mia often braided flowers into his mane, calling him "my fluffy king."
Sister Florence chuckled.
"She must be in the guest room. The poor child was clinging to Marcelline all night."
"…She was?" Marcelline blinked, warmth flooding her chest.
Amara nodded dramatically.
"Yes! Like a koala! She refused to sleep unless she hugged your arm. I barely got her to let go…"
Marcelline pushed her chair back with sudden purpose.
"I'm bringing her down," she said, determination shining in her eyes. "Breakfast isn't breakfast without my little Mia."
Amara sighed, half-amused, half-exasperated.
"You spoil her too much."
"You don't spoil angels," Marcelline replied simply. "You cherish them."
And with that, she headed toward the stairs—light on her feet, the faintest smile touching her lips—ready to retrieve the tiny child who had filled a long-lost piece of her heart.
What she didn't know was that Mia was already awake…
…sitting on the stairs, rubbing her eyes with her tiny fists…
…waiting for her "Auntie Elli."
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