Wilfred frowned, hesitating for a moment. "Ms. Perry, could you put my younger daughter on the phone?"
"Of course."
A second later, Penelope's soft little voice came through: "Daddy."
Wilfred's tone gentled. "Penelope, did you eat any of the honey buns your sister brought?"
"No. She said her other daddy made them for her to share with her classmates. She wouldn't let me have any." A note of hurt lingered in her voice.
Wilfred exhaled in relief.
As long as Penelope was okay.
"How's Hilary doing?"
"She's crying."
Penelope's voice was thick with indignation. "She kept insisting you made those honey buns, but you didn't! Uncle Patrick made them. She's blaming you for nothing!"
"No, I'm not! I'm not blaming Daddy! Daddy made them, not Uncle Patrick—"
Hilary's wailing burst through the phone.
"Shut up! You're lying about Daddy! I'm gonna hit you—"
"Ahhhhh!"
Hilary's screams followed almost immediately.
Clearly, Penelope was dispensing sisterly justice.
Wilfred didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Sure, Penelope was born half an hour after her twin, but in terms of maturity, intelligence, and sheer combat ability, she completely outclassed Hilary.
Since Penelope hadn't been bullied, he could relax.