Kiss the Stars (Falling Stars 1)
The issue was it was so acute that it nearly knocked me from my feet.
I moved across the room to the crib that sat on one side of the room. I leaned over the railing, peering through the dim light to where Greyson slept.
His chubby cheeks were pinked, his plush lips pursed and whispering in his dreams.
So peaceful in his rest.
My hand shook with the amount of adoration I felt as I ran my hand over the top of his head.
“I love you, sweet boy,” I whispered, touching my fingers to my lips before I pressed them to his forehead. “I promise that we are going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you. To us.”
I murmured the hushed words to his sleeping body, praying he could feel their truth as I tucked his teddy bear closer to him.
I eased back. My heart lurched when I glanced to the side and saw Penny sitting up in her bed. She was clutching her patchwork teddy bear to her chest, watching me with her knowing eyes.
“Penny, sweetheart . . . what are you still doing awake?”
“I could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?”
Light laughter rolled out. Leave it to my eleven-year-old daughter to call me out.
Crossing the room, I sat down on the edge of her bed and brushed my fingers through her hair. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Neither could I,” she admitted in her quiet voice.
I searched through her expression, my words hushed in the night. “Did you have a bad dream?”
Penny shook her head, and she drew her legs up to her chest. “I guess it might as well be a bad dream.” She blinked long, and my chest ached. “In the day it’s easier . . . it’s easier to pretend that everything is fine.”
Her voice lowered in shame. “But sometimes when I close my eyes . . . I see her, Mom. I see Lana, and every time, her face changes into yours. I hate it, but I can’t stop it.”
She looked at me.
Hopeless and guilt-ridden and trembling with fear.
“I keep thinking about what it would have been like if it was you.”
I kept brushing my fingers through the locks of her hair, trying to soothe her, trying to soothe myself.
Tears filled her eyes, and she peered up at me through the shadows. “Does it make me bad, Mom? Does it make me a bad person that I’m glad you’re the one who is still here?”
“Oh, Penny, of course not, sweetheart. Never. You are wonderful and kind and full of love. It’s only natural that we want to protect the ones who are closest to us.”
“But she was like our family.”
“I know. And I miss her so much. I know you miss her, too. What happened was horrible. Horrible in every way.” I spread my hand over the side of her face, and my tone deepened with emphasis, “Don’t you dare take on any blame or beat yourself up for anything you feel. We’re all grieving. Handling it the best way that we can.”
Guilt rippled and blew. How many times had I thought the same thing? What torment it might have caused my children if they were to have lost me?
My luck up against hers.
Was it wrong?
Was it selfish?
Tremors rolled down Penny’s throat. “We’re not here for vacation, are we?”
Grief tightened my chest in a vice.
I should have known my insightful child would realize packing up and leaving so quickly was more than an impromptu trip.
I ran my knuckles down her cheek that was thinning with her age, my little girl sitting at the verge of child and woman.
So innocent and wise.
Naïve and intelligent.
“You don’t need to worry, Penny. We’re here to heal. I would never let anything happen to you.”
Her voice sounded smaller than it had in a long time. “Why would someone want to hurt us? Want to hurt Lana? It’s not fair.”
“Greed makes people do terrible things.”
She blinked, her dark eyes pleading for a different answer. I wished with all of me that I could give her one. “Is that what that man wanted, all of her money?”
My nod was reluctant. “That’s what the detective thinks right now.”
That statement was beginning to feel like a lie, nothing making sense or adding up.
A frown pinched her brow. “But we’re here, not that I’m mad or anything, because you know I love it here. It’s my favorite place ever. But Mom, I know you’re not telling me everything. I’m not a little girl anymore. You don’t have to protect me.”
There she was, acting an age older again.
“My only job in this world is protecting you, Penny.”
“Is someone going to hurt us?”
Talons of agony sank into my spirit, and I cupped my hand tighter to her face. “No. We’re safe here.”
“Dad says we should be with him. He said no one would touch us if we were. Maybe we should go back to California and stay with him.” Her whispered words started to fly, cramming closer and closer together as she suddenly launched into a plea.