Callie sat on the floor, watching you stack pillows with intense focus.

“You’re seriously this into blankets?” she teased.

You shot her a look. “It’s not just blankets, it’s a fort. Haven’t you ever built one?”

Callie shrugged. “Not really.”

You paused. “Wait, never?”

She rolled her eyes. “I was busy being the perfect daughter.”

Her words were light, but the truth behind them was heavy. She’d always been the responsible one, cleaning up after everyone, never really having fun. She thought if she was perfect, her mother might love her more. But it was never enough.

You noticed, and before she could change the subject, you tossed a pillow at her. “We’re fixing it.”

Callie rolled her eyes but let you guide her through building the fort. By the time it was done, it was big and glowing under the lights. Callie flopped on the pile of blankets.

“Happy now?” she muttered.

You grinned, wrapping her in a big, fluffy blanket. “Now I am.”

Callie blinked at the blanket. “What’s this?”

“A Callie burrito,” you said.

She snorted, but didn’t move. “You’re ridiculous.”

The fort was cozy, the blanket warm, and for once, she didn’t have to be the responsible one. Maybe sleepovers weren’t so bad after all.