Rob Thurman - All Seeing Eye

I liked babies. Hector would no doubt laugh in disbelief when he heard that, but it was true. People I could often take or leave, but babies, yeah, I liked. They were new, and their feelings all began and ended in wonder. Unless a dirty diaper was involved, but that was easily fixed. I held down a finger to let the small hand wrap around it with a grip of silk. I felt the sheer marvel at everything new and clean in its eyes wash out from it-no, her, definitely a girl-as I always did with babies, and then I felt something else. Something so familiar that my chest ached more than it had when I’d been hit with the shotgun blast. My life was changing yet again. It was a phenomenal change and a terrifying one to prove I was up to it.

Second chances come hardly ever. They were miracles in the truest sense of the word. Was I able to handle a miracle?

Have faith, Jackson.

I would. If I couldn’t find faith for anything else, I’d find faith for this.

Five years is too short a life, no matter how much that person loved and lived that life to the sky and beyond. You should get a do-over. The rules of childhood games didn’t apply to life, but what about after?

Birthday party.

She’d said “birthday party” while pulling Charlie out of thin air: I’m going to be late for my birthday party.

“Well,”-I smiled as the grip tightened on my finger-“Happy birthday, Tess.

“Welcome home.”