Chapter 11 Family drama

Ethan

Following the direction of Paisley’s pointing finger, I scan the crowded courtyard for my daughter’s look alike. Despite my best efforts, I don’t see anyone fitting her description. I believe Paisley saw a child who resembled her, but it seems like she’s gone now. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I don’t see her.”

Paisley drags her expectant gaze from my face, looking back across the mall. Her little face scrunches up in disappointment when she too fails to find the child in question. “Daddy, I swear. She looked exactly like me! Maybe she’s my sister!”

Chuckling warmly, I tug my pup towards the theater entrance. “I know you want a sister, my love, but your mommy only gave birth to you.”

“No, daddy, that was my sister.” She insists stubbornly. “I decided!”

This is not the first time my daughter has invented an imaginary sibling or invisible friend to play with, after all, don’t all children at this age? I know it’s no use arguing, and I don’t want to stifle her creativity. Instead I shake my head in amusement and agree, “All right little one. Sister or not, it’s time for the movie.”

From her expression, Paisley suspects I’m merely humoring her, but she doesn’t argue. She’s too excited to see this film. For the next two hours, my sweet pup delights at the antics of the characters on the sprawling silver screen, and I sit back and enjoy the sound of her laughter. With her medical

troubles I have to relish every moment of joy we can find, especially the simple joys like this one.

center, entering our favorite restaurant, which offers a 360 degree view of my beautiful city. Stuffing our faces full of rich Italian food, we gaze out the floor to ceiling windows as night falls

take our pup inside the ladies’ room and help her through the process. Unfortunately, I can do no such thing. I know it’s not a

girl has a prideful streak. “Daddy

I vow,

inside, I try

being Alpha; I can’t go anywhere without being recognized, and the tabloids keep my private life plastered across the front page. These women not only know

she starts to walk off in the opposite

her easily, scooping her up and belatedly wondering if she somehow managed to change clothes in the restroom. I’m

and fight my hold.

that she does not topple out of my arms. I don’t know what game she’s playing, but I don’t

“I’m Riley and I don’t like you. Let me go!” She repeats,

what are you doing?” A small voice sounds in the vicinity of my hip, and I look down to find Paisley staring up at

dissimilarity between them being their clothes, “What? How is this possible?” Scenting the pup in my arms, I realize she truly isn’t Paisley. She smells similar, but Paisley’s fragrance is slightly sweeter and more delicate. More importantly, this pup smells like Paisley

herself Riley is staring down at Paisley in shock, and my daughter

out of my hands, stunning me so completely I freeze

to find her, relying on my vision rather than my other senses. By the time I

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