The room falls completely silent. Daddy’s face goes a shade paler, and Mummy’s eyes widen in disbelief, a mix of shock and anger filling her gaze.
“Excuse me?” Mummy finally speaks, her voice trembling between an unsettling blend of fury and panic. Her hands start to shake as she tries to process what her daughter has just said.
The little girl, utterly unaware of the storm she’s unleashed, innocently repeats her words, “You know, like you and Uncle Jack did when Daddy was in Vancouver. I saw it through the keyhole that time, too.” Her expression is casual, as if she’s merely commenting on the weather.
Daddy raises an eyebrow, a sudden smirk forming on his face, as if he’s been caught in a little game, and just like that, the guilt seems to evaporate. “Oh, really, Mummy?” he says, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. His tone is teasing, a complete 180 from the tension a moment ago.
Mummy stammers, fumbling for words, “I—I think you must have misunderstood, sweetie.” Her voice cracks, as she desperately tries to wrap her mind around what her daughter has just revealed.
The little girl, seemingly too confident for her age, shakes her head firmly. “Nope! It looked just the same. But Uncle Jack is way funnier—he made silly faces while you two were on the bed!”
Daddy tries to hold back a laugh, clearly amused, but Mummy’s face turns a deep shade of crimson, the heat rising rapidly in her cheeks. “That’s enough bedtime stories for tonight!” she snaps, trying to regain control, ushering the little girl toward her room with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.
As the little girl skips off happily, completely oblivious to the chaos she’s caused, Daddy turns to Mummy with a sly grin, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “Attorney in the morning, huh?” he teases, not able to resist the chance to jab at her while she’s flustered.
Mummy glares at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “Don’t push your luck,” she mutters under her breath, though her face is still red, and her hands are clenched at her sides, half-expecting him to make another comment.
But Daddy, realizing that he might’ve pushed things far enough for one evening, raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just don’t blame me if she starts drawing pictures of you and Uncle Jack next time,” he jokes, though his eyes glint with mischievousness.
Mummy just shakes her head, refusing to acknowledge any more of his teasing. But in the silence that follows, it’s clear that things between them will be very different tomorrow morning.