Zara walked into the kitchen humming softly, her satin bonnet covering her curly hair, her father glanced up from the stove. He squinted, lowering his reading glasses.
“You look... different.”
Zara blinked. “Different how?”
He tilted his head, studying her like he was seeing her for the first time in weeks. “You’ve got this... glow. Like when you were little and just won that spelling bee.” He smiled. “I remember you couldn’t stop grinning all day.”
Zara chuckled and walked toward the sink to rinse a cup. “Maybe I’m just happy.”
His brows lifted. “Does this have anything to do with that boy?”
“You’ve been smiling to yourself all week, Zara,” he observed, his voice a low, knowing rumble.“
Zara’s composure crumbled.” Which boy?” Zara asked, her cheeks, already flushed from Leo’s com
