ROOSEVELT’S POV

"Daddy, you burned it!"

Lorna’s loud giggle filled the kitchen.

"I did not burn it, little bug," Zyran said playfully. "It is just extra crispy and that is how the best chefs in Italy make it."

"No, they don't!" Lorna laughed. "It looks like a black rock!"

I stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall, smiling as I listened to them.

I walked into the kitchen, Zyran was by the stove, wearing a casual white t-shirt and sweatpants. He held a spatula and looked down at a very black, ruined pancake in the pan, Lorna sat at the kitchen island, kicking her feet and pointing at him....