Two years ago, these fancy bead kits had become all the rage with Mia’s and Ava’s classmates. They were ridiculously expensive, and we didn’t have a lot of extra money for that kind of thing. So, as an alternative, I’d taught the girls how to make simple friendship bracelets with string. They’d become obsessed, and Mia had made us all matching rainbow bracelets. Even Will wore one.

I held up my wrist, touching it to Mia’s. “Rainbow power in full effect.”

She beamed at me. “Good.”

Ava appeared in the doorway. “Morning.” Her voice was soft, just like the rest of her. My girl was the most sensitive of souls. The therapist I’d taken both Will and her to for the first year I’d had custody of them had told me that she might always be this way. Growing up in such an unstable home had made her constantly take the measure of those around her, always cautious to avoid any volatile situations. As much as it hurt my heart, I knew that Ava’s empathy and sense of others’ emotions could also be a superpower.

“Morning, Avs.” I wrapped an arm around her for a quick hug. “All right, get settled. It’s time for food.”

“Pancakes?” Mia asked hopefully.

Will chuckled. “You ask that every day.”

She turned hopeful eyes to me, and I couldn’t hold in my laugh. “It’s not a weekend.” I tried to reserve the super-sugary stuff for special occasions.

She slumped in her chair. “Vegetables?”

I tried to reel in my laughter at her dejected expression. “You’ll survive. I promise.”

“I like the veggie patch scrambles,” Ava offered.

“I’m glad.” I’d come up with the name because when we first moved into our small rental house, I’d planted a vegetable garden in the backyard. The kids loved helping tend to the plants, and I thought it would make them keener to the idea of eating the vegetables on their plates. It was hit or miss most of the time. But Ava was always a trooper.

“I like the veggie patch scrambles,” Mia parroted in a whiny voice.

My gaze cut to her as I took a seat. “Mia Renee, we don’t make fun in this house.”

She slumped lower in her seat. “Sorry, Ava.”

It wasn’t exactly heartfelt, but it wasn’t sassy either so I let it slide. Everyone dug into their breakfast, and my lips twitched when Mia was the first to finish hers. When she caught my smile, she shrugged like someone way older than her seven years. “It wasn’t so bad.”

“I’m happy to hear it.” I took a sip of orange juice, glancing around the table. “Okay, hit me with the good stuff. Three things.” I pointed to Ava.

“Um…” She thought for a moment. “I got a ninety-seven on my spelling test.”