“Isa!” he says. “Cape, cape, help me with the cape.” She ruffles his hair and takes the blanket from him. I watch as she ties it around his neck, loose enough that he can easily slip it off his head himself. “There,” she says. “Who are you fighting today?” “Willa,” he declares. I point the spatula in his direction. “No, you’re not. She’s not one of the bad guys. Why don’t you go get her instead, because the pancakes are almost done. That’s a superhero task.”
