[ELARA'S POV]
Isla turned seven on a Saturday in spring.
Seven. My baby was seven. Old enough to have opinions about everything. Old enough to roll her eyes when I suggested things. Old enough to make me feel ancient.
"I don't want a princess party." She announced. "That's for babies."
"Okay. What do you want?"
"Science party. With experiments. And explosions."
Of course. My daughter wanted explosions for her birthday.
"We can do science. Maybe not explosions."
"Boring."
"Safe. There's a difference."
She huffed. Went to her room. Slammed the door just enough to make a point but not enough to get in trouble.
Seven going on seventeen. God help me.
Damian found me in the kitchen. Laughing.
"What's funny?" He poured coffee. We were both on our second cup. Parenting four kids required excessive caffeine.
"Our daughter wants explosions for her birthday."
"Sounds about right. She's your kid."
"Excuse me?"
