Damien’s POV
That night, the girls and I went to our assigned room. There, though the girls were clearly tired, dragging themselves more than bouncing now, they remained excited. Little chatterboxes, they rambled about the beauty of the palace, the excitement of the event, and seeing Annette again.
“Uncle Jake said not to call Annette Mom, but I think Annette liked it,” Amy said.
Stacy agreed. “She looks so much like Mom, I don’t see why we can’t call her that.”
“Girls,” I said.
We were sharing a set of rooms, their bedroom across a small hallway from mine that connected to a sitting room with a couch and a television. The girls were in their bedroom when I approached from down the hall, having heard their conversation.
As I came nearer, they hushed each other, probably hoping to ac
