The girl in the middle nodded, as if confirming a hypothesis.
“Good,” she said. “We were worried we had the wrong table.”
Madison glanced around the café, searching instinctively for an adult who might be missing three children. No one rushed forward. Several patrons smiled with mild amusement. The barista leaned subtly closer, curious but unconcerned.
The girl on the left spoke next.
“Our dad is supposed to meet you,” she explained, folding her hands with impressive composure. “He is late, but he did not forget.”
Madison set her cup down carefully.
“I see,” she replied. “And where is your father right now?”
The smallest girl leaned in conspiratorially.
“At work,” she whispered. “Something broke. He fixes things.”
Madison felt a reluctant smile tug at her lips.
“And he knows you are here?” she asked gently.
All three girls shook their heads in perfect unison.
“Not yet,” the tallest one admitted. “But he will.”
Madison exhaled, realizing resistance would be futile.
“Why do you not sit down,” she said, gesturing to the empty chairs. “And start explaining.”
They climbed up eagerly.