But next year never arrived.
The morning they vanished felt painfully ordinary.
Ryan stood in the kitchen before dawn making coffee while Jack struggled to button his shirt correctly. Caleb kept bragging that he was about to catch the biggest fish in the county.
Lily stood near the back door in her pajamas, pleading one last time.
“Daddy, please let me come.”
Ryan knelt beside her with a gentle smile.
“You’re still too little for the boat, Peanut. Next year.”
Then he kissed her cheek, tousled the twins’ hair, and looked over at me.
“We’ll be back before dinner. Though Jack’s probably only catching weeds again.”
Jack groaned in protest. Caleb burst out laughing.
I laughed too.
