Pucking Forbidden Claim
She’s practically bouncing in my dad’s arms, twisting to look toward the kitchen like she’s expecting some kind of Christmas miracle.
The moment we step into the kitchen, she gasps dramatically, her hands covering her mouth as her eyes widen. “No way!” she breathes, wriggling to get down. My dad sets her on her feet, and she sprints forward, her little hands hovering over the plates, taking in every single detail. “The elf did this?” she whispers, like she’s afraid speaking too loudly will make it disappear.
Kade leans against the counter, arms crossed, a proud smirk tugging at his lips. “Looks like it.”