She moves closer, gripping my hand like I’ll vanish on the spot. Her forehead is nearly touching the helmet. “What did you say in the voicemail?” I lift my free hand to her face, my fingers spasming over the gash on her cheek. Instead of telling her what I said, I smile, even though she can’t see my mouth. “The first time I saw you, I was yours. I’ll always be yours, Freckles. Our girl will be proud of the woman you’ve become. You’ll both always be my girls.”
My heart
