The kitchen smelled like vanilla and warm syrup, the early morning sunlight spilling through the windows in soft golden streaks. Isabelle flipped the last pancake onto a plate, smiling as Amelia and Elliott sat at the table, giggling over something whispered between them.
For a moment, everything felt normal.
Until—
“Mommy, is Daddy married to Victoria now?”
The spatula slipped from Isabelle’s fingers, clattering against the counter.
Her breath caught.
The air in the room shifted—light and easy turning into something tense and fragile.
She turned to face them slowly, her heart thudding against her ribs.
“Where did you hear that?” she asked, keeping her voice as calm as possible.
Amelia, swinging her legs under the table, took another bite of her pancake before answering. “Charlie
