I opened my mouth to refuse—the living room needed to stay organized, what if we needed to evacuate quickly, what if—but Serena spoke first.
"That sounds amazing. We could make it a whole adventure. Map out territories, establish supply routes." She glanced at me. "If your dad's okay with it."
Finn's hopeful expression made refusal impossible. "Sure. After breakfast."
The morning progressed with surreal normalcy. Serena had discovered my pathetic craft supplies—mostly unused gifts from well-meaning relatives who thought art therapy might helpFinn after Sarah died—and somehow transformed them into magic.
"Okay, Finn," she announced, holding up a piece of paper decorated with hockey sticks drawn in crayon. "Your first mission is to find something in this house that rhymes with 'puck' but isn't your dad's equipment."
Finn bounced on his toes, already breathless with excitement. "Duck! Mom had a rubber duck for—" He stopped abruptly, glancing at me.
"The bathroom," I finished quietly. "It's probably still in the hall closet."
Serena didn't miss a beat, though I caught the flicker of understanding in her eyes. "Perfect! Now, remember our breathing rules—what do we do when we're treasure hunting?"
"Walk like we're sneaking past a sleeping dragon," Finn recited, demonstrating an exaggerated slow-motion walk that had him giggling. "Not running like we're being chased by one."
"Exactly." She high-fived him as he headed off on his mission, then turned to me. "The Therapist at school taught him that. Helps him self-regulate without feeling like he's being restricted."
I watched my son carefully navigate the hallway, fighting every instinct to sprint. "He never told me about the dragon thing."
"Kids compartmentalize more than we think." She started gathering blankets from the couch. "Different rules for different places. Speaking of which, would you mind if we rearranged your living room? I promise we'll put it back."
"You mean more than you already have?" I gestured to the chaos of cushions and pillows.
She smiled, unrepentant. "This is just phase one. Wait until you see the architectural marvel we're about to create."
By the time Finn returned, clutching the yellow rubber duck triumphantly, Serena had orchestrated a blanket fort that consumed my entire living room. She'd used my hockey sticks as support beams—something that should have made me twitch but somehow didn't—and created what looked like a fabric city.
"Dad, look!" Finn dragged me to the entrance. "This is the command center, and over there is the medical bay for when soldiers get hurt, and that's the mess hall—"
"Strategic defensive positions," Serena added seriously, crawling inside. "We need to protect our supplies from potential invaders."
"Like Dad?" Finn asked hopefully.
"Especially like Dad," she confirmed. "Hockey players are known for their sneak attacks."
I found myself on my hands and knees, pretending to prowl outside their fort while Finn shrieked with delight from inside. But after a few minutes, I heard it—that slight whistle in his breathing that meant he was pushing too hard.
Serena heard it too. "Alright, soldier, time for a strategy meeting. We need to plan our defense properly." She emerged from the fort, casually steering Finn toward the couch. "Your dad looks like he's planning something big. Here, let's draw our battle plans."
She produced paper and crayons, transforming the high-energy game into a quieter activity so smoothly that Finn didn't even realize he was being managed. He sprawled on his stomach, tongue poking out in concentration as he drew elaborate fortification plans.
"She's good," I said quietly, settling beside them.
"Miss Serena is the best," Finn agreed without looking up. "She lets me be the line leader when I need walk breaks at school, but nobody knows that's why."
I caught Serena's eye over his head. She shrugged modestly, but there was something knowing in her expression—the look of someone who understood what it was like to navigate a child's pride alongside their needs.
My phone buzzed on the coffee table, Theo's name lighting up the screen.
"Tell me the hot teacher is still there," he said without preamble when I answered.
"The storm—"
"Is the best thing that ever happened to you. Finn loves her, she clearly knows her way around kids with health issues, and do you remember the way she looked at you back at the ice rink?"
"Theo—"
