Years later
“Daddy!” As I step off the elevator, Alessia squeals, running at me. Her red pigtails bounce the whole way. I scoop her up into my arms. Her little hands come to my cheeks as she rubs her nose against mine. She giggles when I return the gesture.
“How is my bunny?”
“All hopped up on sugar,” Emma calls from the kitchen.
“Am not.” I’m not sure I believe her. Her face is still covered in frosting. Alessia can be a bit of a cupcake bandit. We never can bust her stealing them, but she manages to do it somehow.
“You let your sister get into the cupcakes?” I ask my son Dante, who is sitting on the couch in the living room with a computer in his lap. At six, the kid can work one better than I can. What I get for letting Zero babysit once.
“We have cupcakes?” He suppresses a smirk
