And just as quickly, all the lingering anger I might have held against vanished. It felt childish, insignificant. I was loved. Fiercely. I was needed.
I was everything to these people. And they were everything to me.
I looked up at him, my vision blurred by tears.
"Don't you ever do that to me again, Faith," he breathed, his voice an absolute plea. "I was worried stiff. You can't. You can't leave me like that."
My heart ached for him. "I won't," I whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
After another minute, the kids finally started to calm down, hiccupping occasionally, but their hands were still clamped onto my clothes.
"I have an idea," I said, trying to make my voice cheerful despite the emotion choking me. I gently pushed them back so I could look at their faces. "I want to fresh
