F R E Y A
"Mommy, will uncle Luciano come by today again?" Faith’s voice asked as she snuggled into my side. I was reading her a bedtime story, the same one we read almost every night.
"I don't know, baby," I said, my heart aching a little. I didn't want to give her false hope, but I didn't want to crush her spirit either.
"He said he would teach me how to play the piano," She said, her small face scrunched up in concentration.
"I know he did, baby," I said, stroking her hair. "And I'm sure he will. But Uncle Luciano is a very busy man."
"You're busy too," She said, her big eyes looking up at me. "But you always have time for me."
"That’s because I’m your mommy, baby. I’ll always have time for you no matter what. You’re the most important thing in my life." I said, kissing the top of
