Sunday arrived quietly, the kind of morning that passed almost unnoticed, and here I was, standing a few steps away from the entrance, arms loosely folded, watching the three children.
They hadn't stopped moving since they walked in—eyes darting, heads tilting, feet shuffling in endless curiosity.
I smiled before I could stop myself.
They looked adorable. Out of place. Like kittens dropped into a jewelry store.
"Okay," I said lightly, clapping my hands once. "Quick tour. Then you behave while I work. Paris, look after your siblings, okay?"
The triplets nodded eagerly, their faces lighting up. I led them forward, pointing out details as we walked.
Paris asked questions nonstop, Egypt chimed in occasionally with comments, and Cairo absorbed everything quietly, like a tiny, serious scholar meticulously observing everything.
"Mom," Paris said suddenly, stopping short. "Is this really yours? Your… for real ours?"
