five-year-old’s soul.
“Mommy?” she whispered, her voice as light and fragile as ash.
“I’m here, baby.”
“Does Daddy not want us anymore?”
That single, devastating sentence was a rusty, serrated blade sawing slowly back and forth across my heart. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing back the burning tears, and gripped her small hand with every ounce of strength continue reading …
