The 4th of July used to be my favorite day. Fireworks, family, grilled food, kids running wild under the summer sun. This year felt no different—at first. Laughter filled the yard, drinks clinked, Ellie chased fireflies barefoot with watermelon juice on her chin. It was perfect. Until dinner. My father-in-law raised his glass. “Is everyone here?” My wife smiled. “Yep, packed house.” Then Ellie—sweet, innocent Ellie—raised her hand. “No, we’re not,” she said matter-of-factly. “The man from Mommy’