Camila's eyes widen in wonder as they scan over the buffet-style Cuban breakfast laid out on the table. I could've made it myself, but this way ensured that it would be perfectly Cuban, just in case my family's recipes are tainted by our half-American blood. Once she reaches the other end of the island, she looks up at me with an open-mouthed smile while Sofia starts to serve herself a plate.

"This is okay, right?" I question, growing nervous under her gaze. She nods rapidly and hurries around Sofi to reach the plates. I laugh quietly and follow suit.

She stands close to me as she shimmies along the island, taking pretty much one of every type of food, from a small bowl of Havana-style eggs to Cuban toast and, after making her way away from the island and towards the fruit stand on the other side of the kitchen, a perfectly-yellow banana. She grins again as she passes me on her way to the living room to eat. I make sure to hurry with my own plate before following after her, sitting beside her on the sofa but with some comfortable space between us. She frowns and shuffles closer, until our legs are pressed against one another, and mumbles a muffled "Thank you!" around a spoonful of arroz blanco. I nod with a smile.

Only the sounds of the TV and forks occasionally scraping plates accompany our meal. It's delicious, as usual, so our focus is consumed by our sense of taste.

Camila finishes first and, while still chewing her last mouthful, stands to head to the kitchen. I catch her thigh before she passes me, swallow the food in my mouth, and ask, "Are you going for seconds?"

She glances down at her plate, then at me with a shyness in her eyes. She nods, hesitantly.

"That's okay, but will you have room for dessert?"

Once again, her eyes widen, almost bogging out of her head. She chokes on her food but recovers before I can set mine aside to help, and laughs. "I haven't had dessert in..." her eyes narrow and drift to the side before she finally says, "A long time."

I chuckle, putting my plate on the table while I stand, and pressing my lips to her forehead once I do. She grins, letting me take her plate from her as I instruct her to sit back down. "It's your birthday," I explain when she tries to protest, "You don't have to do anything, even take you the dishes way."

I think I hear her repeat the words 'it's my birthday' under her breath, but I'm too far to properly hear the whisper, so I shrug it off and rinse off her plate before setting it on the side. Dessert is the item I was most worried about her finding, since I had to hide it deep within the fridge, and my fridge isn't very big. Still, I think the tin foil around its box helped to disguise it, as she has no idea as to what it is. I glance over at her and find her talking animatedly with Sofi, both of them with huge smiles. The light from the window frames them perfectly, and I grow distracted for a moment. I wonder if Camila would be so good with other kids, or if it's just because Sofi is her sister. Visions of her surrounded by children, playing and laughing with them, pass through my mind. She seems in her element, so I decide it must be true.

With a deep breath, I turn back to the task at hand. Peeling back the foil, I reveal the cake within, a mid-sized two-tier cake with white frosting, topped with chopped pecans and, in a moment, freshly-sliced banana. I make sure to shield the cake from view as I add the banana onto the top before reaching into a nearby drawer and piercing the cake with two yellow-coiled candles, together spelling out '24'. I smile at the handy work, slipping the cake onto a nicer-looking plate for serving before lighting the candles on top. As I begin to sing Happy Birthday, the room falls entirely silent. I glance up to see that Sofia has turned off the TV, too, and grin, continuing on my rather-slow, so as not to drop the cake, path back to the living room. Sofi joins in with my singing, calling Camila Kaki (which I don't quite understand but still find adorable) while I set the cake down on the table. Sofi shuffles back a little as I look over into Camila's eyes and find her frowning ever so slightly, so I interrupt that last line of the song to kiss the back of her hand. She squeezes my hand in return, eyes still glued to the cake. Her lips part, her breathing picks up, and her eyes dart wildly between the two candles.

"Hey, hey," I whisper, keeping hold of her one hand while my other palm gently taps on her knee in reassurance, "It's okay, just make a wish blow them out."

She nods, hesitating to close her eyes. When she does, she leaves only a second before blowing in the general direction of the cake, holding tight to my hand the whole time.

"Good job, baby!" I commend, and she peels one eye open and relaxes at the smoke now rising from the candles. I don't comment on it directly, but I know that she just crossed another fear of hers and I'm proud of how she handled it.

She points at the cake, though keeps her hand close to her body as she does so. "It's got bananas," she highlights, and I chuckle, nodding.

"Wait 'til you taste it."

She frowns, watching as I cut some slices for her and Sofi, whose plate is also empty now, before returning to my breakfast. She warily probes at the cake with her fork before taking a small bite. Instantly, she groans in satisfaction. I smile as she goes back for me, much more eagerly this time. "The whole thing is banana-flavoured!" She exclaims as though I were unaware.

"I know," I laugh, "It's good, huh?"

She nods leaning over to bump me with her shoulder. "Thanks, babe," she says, nonchalantly.

My brows furrow but she doesn't lift her gaze from her plate. "Babe?" I question in a whisper. She looks up, gives a toothless smile and nods. Her expression is mirrored on mine as I bump her in return.