The gym was quiet that morning—just the rhythmic clank of weights and the low hum of motivational music in the background. I was at the bench press, trying to push through the last few reps of a heavier set than usual. My arms were starting to shake slightly.

"Need a spot, daddy?" came a teasing voice behind me.

I glanced up and saw Savannah standing there, smirking, hands on her hips. Her yellow sports top practically glowed under the gym lights, and her long ponytail bounced slightly as she walked over.

Before I could answer, she stepped in, grabbed the bar with ease, and racked it with a fluid, practiced motion. No strain. No sweat.

She winked. "Come on, daddy—don’t tell me you’re getting soft on me now."

I rolled my eyes, laughing. "I let you do that. Muscle building."

"Uh-huh," she said, grabbing a dumbbell in one hand like it weighed nothing. "Guess I'm the strong one in the family now.”