style="font-size:15px;"> She had no one. But she would soon, somehow. She had to.
* * *
“How are you, Arlen?”
Grant gritted his teeth at the sound of Dahlia’s ingratiating tone. Hadn’t the woman heard anything he’d said? He held his breath, waiting for the boy’s sour retort. Arlen didn’t respond.
Grant stepped into the kitchen, wondering why. He caught his breath at the sight of Arlen seated at the table, with a twin on either side. He was folding paper into an airplane. A huge smile transformed his usually surly face. Grant caught his breath when Glory reached up to touch his cheek.
Don’t hurt her, please don’t hurt her.
But Arlen’s smile only grew as he smoothed the mess of curls off her face. “Didn’t you comb your hair this morning, Glory?” he said in a very tender voice.
“Daddy tried, but he’s not very good at it.”
Grant’s face burned at this condemnation.
“She gets knots,” Grace explained. “Daddy doesn’t like hurting her so he bundles her hair up like that. But it never stays. Are you going to make me an airplane, too, Arlen?”
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