“I— She—” He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and cleared his throat. “It’s...astonishing. She has my eyes.”
That had been the first thing Annabeth had noticed when she’d met Sarah a year ago.
“And my smile,” he said, wonder in his voice.
“She has your build, too.”
He nodded absently. “Tall and lanky, like all the Mitchells at her age, even the girls.”
He looked fierce and proud as he spoke, and completely unashamed of the joy spreading through him. But then his expression changed, bursting with other emotions. Determination, conviction. Unrelenting resolve.
Hunter Mitchell was going to claim Sarah as his daughter. Annabeth tried to follow all the threads to their logical conclusion, knowing the gesture was a waste of time. She’d already lost the niece she’d grown to love as her own child.
The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.
How would Annabeth ever survive without her niece?
Sarah was so sweet, so eager to please, so willing to accept a stranger in her life without question.
Annabeth sighed. It hurt to love this much.
Breaking her train of thought, Sarah darted back into the room, her hands overflowing with ribbons and pieces of silk, her smile full of excitement.
An identical expression spread across Hunter’s features.
Again, Annabeth felt like the intruder.
“Here it is, Mr. Mitchell, my latest creation.” Sarah hopped from one foot to the other. “Look, see, right here. And here. And here. I sewed all the ribbons on myself.”
“I’m thoroughly impressed.” The words were mild enough, but his eyes glistened with emotion, and not just any emotion. Love. The man was already bursting with love for his daughter.
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