Michael sat at the kitchen table with Daniel, one hand on his son’s arm. “It’s okay. Just tell me what happened”, he told his oldest son, voice calm and steady.
“I don’t know, Dad!”, he replied, voice elevated slightly out of anxiety. “I just tried to reach out and grab her and then she landed in sand”. He shook his head, and Michael realized that he really was as confused as his father. There hadn’t been a loose sand pit where Alicia had fallen from the tree. Thinking of Molly, and something Harry had told him about magic in bloodlines, he frowned.
“We’ll figure this out together, Daniel. I’ll find someone to help you with it”, he assured his son, and gave him a hug, making sure not to show how worried he was.
He wasn’t sure when the last time that he’d been up in the tree, but he very carefully pulled himself up into the treehouse, anyway. Come to think of it, when was the last time Matthew had been up here. Nevertheless, Matthew sat in the corner. “I’m sorry, Dad”, he told Michael, muffled by his hands on his face. Michael reached over and tousled Matthew’s dark hair.
“It’s okay. We’ll melt the slag down and recast it. I’m just curious if you know how you did that”, he told his son.
“I-I’m like Molly and Daniel, right?” Michael smiled, even though anxiety and fear for his child was tearing him up inside. He took a breath. God was there. He would watch out for them. They would be okay.
“You and Mom both look like angels on the inside”, Alicia told him one day. “I hope I’m like that”. Kids say the sweetest things sometimes. Michael squeezed her shoulder.
“We do our best, honey, but everyone has the potential for great good or evil”, he told her. “That’s why you should only judge people by their actions. You can’t tell good or evil from appearance”. She nodded, but seemed unsure.
“Dad, sometimes…I can see what people look like. I can see the angels here. They watch over us. There’s one right there”. She pointed at a very specific corner of the room. Michael stopped, and a small Voice he’d heard many a time before whispered, listen. A chill went down his spine.
“Alicia, you know how Uncle Harry is…unusual??” When she nodded, he continued. “He told me once about something called the Sight”.
“Mom, I’m worried about Samantha” Amanda told her mother one day on their way to school.She was a precocious ten years old. Samantha was one of her best friends at school. She often visited for sleepovers.
“Why, sweetie? Is she having trouble in school?”. Charity hadn’t noticed anything, but Samantha always seemed quiet.
“Well, yeah, but it’s because she’s worried about her parents”, Amanda told her. Charity stiffened.
“Did she tell you that?”, she asked. She knew Samantha’s mother, who had come to Charity for advice about her marriage numerous times recently.
“No. I can just tell. Just like I can tell you’re worried about something right now”. She should not be that perceptive. She would need to call-
“And now you’re thinking about Bill! You’re frustrated and irritated but grateful”. Amanda smiled.
Charity smiled and shook her head. “I think that’s how everyone feels about Mr. Dresden,sweetheart”.
baratheonpilled
tangentwithtanner
snowghoul
dededos
dailybridgerton
discoholicmusic
