Lily was up to something.
I could tell by the way she kept glancing between me and Ethan during breakfast. Calculating. Scheming.
Six years old and already a mastermind.
"Daddy, can we get the Christmas decorations today?" She stabbed a pancake with her fork. "Please? We always get them the first weekend of December."
Ethan frowned. "The shed's buried under three feet of snow."
"So? You're strong. You can dig."
"Lily—"
"Please? Christmas is coming and our house looks sad. It needs decorations. Right, Ava?"
She looked at me. Expectant. Pulling me into her scheme.
"I think decorations would be nice," I said carefully. Not wanting to overstep but also not wanting to disappoint her.
Ethan shot me a look. Traitor.
"See? Ava agrees. That's two against one. Democracy says we get decora
