A man stepped inside, breathless and disheveled, eyes scanning the room with growing panic. His jacket was rumpled, his hair damp from rain, and his expression collapsed the moment he saw the three girls seated neatly at Madison’s table.
“Oh no,” he muttered.
The girls turned in their chairs.
“Hi, Dad,” June said brightly.
The man approached, mortified.
“I am so sorry,” he said quickly, addressing Madison. “I am Daniel Parker. I swear this is not how tonight was supposed to go.”
Madison studied him. There was no arrogance in his apology. No excuse hidden behind charm. Just fear, embarrassment, and sincerity layered together.
“They explained,” Madison said calmly. “Very thoroughly.”
Daniel closed his eyes briefly. “I am never trusting a babysitter who listens to children again.”
“They lied,” Harper added helpfully. “But only a little.”
Dinner happened by accident.
Daniel insisted on cooking, despite Madison’s objections, and the result was chaotic but earnest. The apartment was modest, filled with school drawings and handwritten schedules taped to the refrigerator. Madison noticed a calendar entry written in careful block letters.
“Dinner with Madison.”
She did not mention it. She felt it.