Then realization dawned on me.
I never promised to make breakfast. I didn’t even see Lila last night if I remembered correctly.
She lied to put me in a spot.
A six year old couldn’t think of doing something like this.
It reeked of Anya.
“When last did you speak to your mother?” I asked.
“Mummy called this morning. She cares about Daddy and me.”
Ah, that explained it perfectly.
I exhaled, thinking of ways to approach this situation carefully. “Lila dear, you do know it’s not good to lie right? You’re just six. Little girls shouldn’t lie.”
Lila’s chin trembled. “I didn’t lie.”
I softened immediately.
“Okay,” I said gently. “Then maybe you misunderstood.”
She hugged her coloring book to her chest. “Mummy said if you cared, you’d try harder. Make me breakfast, Gabby.”
Ther
