Anne Winston - The Danforths - Toby, Lea and Adam

“It’s all right, Dylan. I’m here. I’m here.”

Punctuated with sobs, a voice rusty from lack of use implored, “Don’t leave me.”

Those words ripped Heather’s chest. Dylan wrapped his arms about her neck, clinging to her with a desperation that belied his tender years.

“I won’t, honey. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t say that unless you really mean it.”

The voice that issued that directive came not from the darling boy in her arms but from someplace behind Heather. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she swung her head around to see Toby standing in the very spot in the doorway that she had just vacated. Wearing nothing but a pair of simple white briefs, he was a vision of sculpted perfection. Heather had spent hours imagining his body’s contours, but her imagination had been sorely lacking. Such a body deserved to be carved out of marble and immortalized for posterity.

Laden with genuine concern, Toby’s voice was a caress in the night.

It was Heather’s ruination.

Her own voice was surprisingly steady in response.

“I do mean it.”

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