I’m about to stand and run when something heavy is placed on my lap. That heavy thing is moving. Instinctively, my arms wrap around the child. Full head of raven hair, pale skin with pink cheeks, and eyes the color of lavender. She must only be three months old. She raises her little hand to my cheek, before a smile flashes across her face. The wind gets knocked out of me because she definitely got her daddy’s smile.
