Nova
The next Monday morning, all three girls were lined up at the kitchen island on the stools eating cereal: Choco Chunks for Lila, Cinnamon Swirls for Emma, and Nutty O’s for Aria.
“So, I hear the three of you had a helpful conversation with Mr. Dominic Friday night about who his daughters are,” I hedged as I tucked the milk back into the fridge. Dominic casually stirred a lump of sugar into his coffee, leaning against the counter across from the girls.
“Yeah!” Emma exclaimed. “We’re all sisters!”
I couldn’t help but grin at her enthusiasm as I closed the fridge door. I turned to face them, leaning my elbows casually on the counter next to Dominic. We had had a fun-filled weekend, but we needed to make sure to have this conversation before the girls went back to school.
“Does that
