Instead, three little girls stood beside his table in a line so neat it made him blink twice. They looked about six—maybe seven—each with light curls pulled back by matching pale-pink ribbons. Their dresses were pressed, their shoes shiny, and their expressions… serious. Like they’d rehearsed.
Ethan’s first thought was that they were triplets.
His second thought was: Why are they looking at me like I’m a decision they already made?
“Hi,” he said gently. “Are you waiting for someone?”
“We picked you,” said the girl on the left, voice steady.
“We’ve been watching you,” added the middle one, as if that was a normal thing to say.
“And you’re the right person,” finished the third, nodding once with the confidence of someone twice her age.
Ethan let out a small, surprised breath. “The right person for what?”
The three girls leaned closer, dropping their voices like they were sharing a secret that mattered.
“We want you to pretend you’re our dad,” the first one whispered.
