I sat on the plush sofa in Camila's living room, tapping my fingers against my knee as I glanced around. The house was quiet, save for the faint murmur of voices coming from the other room.
Camila and Bella had been on the phone for a while now, whispering urgently to whoever was on the other end. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that something was going on.
Yesterday, when they'd called me over, both of them had sounded…excited, almost giddy. I remembered how Camila had laughed softly into the phone, and Bella, in her usual energetic manner, had practically shouted, "You'll love it, Daddy! Just wait!"
But now? Now they looked more hesitant than excited. As soon as I arrived, they exchanged quick glances and told me to sit here while they handled something. And now here I was, sitting alone on their sofa, left to wonder what this so-called surprise could be—and why they suddenly seemed unsure about it.
