“Daddy?” The word hit Daniel like a gunshot to the chest.
The coffee shop seemed to shrink around him...the soft hum of the freezer, the clink of spoons, the faint smell of vanilla and burnt beans. His fingers tightened on the armrests of his wheelchair as he stared at the two small figures seated at the table.
Daddy.
His mouth twitched but then he laughed. A sharp, humorless sound ripped from his throat. “This is f*****g ridiculous,” he muttered. “What kind of sick joke...”
“Daddy!” the girl called again, louder now, delighted, her voice bright like a bell.
She slid off her chair clumsily, sneakers slapping against the tiled floor, and ran straight toward him with reckless confidence. Her curls bounced wildly, identical to the boy’s, her face a mirror image softened by dimples.
The
