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The footsteps did not slow down.

A small gray blur shot across the doorway.

I stepped into the room just as the boy circled the far end of the table. He looked about four, with dark gray skin, black hair, blue eyes, and an expression so serious it looked completely wrong on someone that small.

Anik’s face. Miniature. Almost exactly.

The boy spotted me and stopped so abruptly that one foot slid against the floor. He stared.

I stared back.

Then he planted his feet wider apart and folded his arms.

I had to bite the inside of my cheek.

He had absolutely seen his father do that.

Behind him, Ryleigh was shifting cups farther from the edge of the table.

“No.”

The boy looked at her.

He had not done anything yet.

Apparently that didn’t matter.

“Do not climb that chair.”

His gaze moved to the chair.

Then to her.

Then back to the chair.

I bit my cheek harder.

Ryleigh noticed me. “Don’t encourage him.”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“You don’t have to.”

The boy took one careful step toward the chair.

Ryleigh pointed.

He stopped.

For about two seconds he seemed to consider his options, then backed away with the solemn dignity of someone determined to pretend the retreat had been his idea.

I lost the fight and laughed.

Ryleigh looked at me. “See?”

“He’s adorable.”

“He knows.”