So at 12:01 that night, I was sitting on Rebecca’s kitchen floor eating strawberry pancakes with her daughter.
It was the strangest and sweetest wish I’d ever granted.
And it was only the beginning.
Over the next few weeks, Sophie asked for simple things.
A ride in a red convertible.
Feeding ducks at the park.
Building a blanket fort.
Watching terrible movies.
I started visiting even when there wasn’t an official wish.
And every time I arrived, I noticed Rebecca watching me.
She seemed happy when Sophie was happy.
But there was always something behind her eyes.
Fear.
Guilt.
Regret.
Then one evening, Sophie asked me to come upstairs.
She was sitting in bed, holding an old photograph.
“Daniel, I finally figured out my real wish.”
I pulled up a chair.
“Tell me.”
She swallowed.
“If I tell you, you might get angry at Mom.”
“Nothing you say will make me leave.”
