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Contd Ramirez Gonzales. I watch as the spoon disappears into her mouth. It’s her second cup of froyo. Typical Ariel—always saying no until you give her something sweet to shut her up. I shift the empty cup aside, giving her more space, though she hardly notices. Getting her here was a battle, but I knew froyo would win. It always does, even if I had to kidnap her to make it happen. She flicks her hair behind her ear, clearing the way between her and her food. The gesture is so simple, yet it makes me pause. Her soft features—those doe-like eyes, full lips, and that damn infectious smile. She isn’t smiling now, but I can’t help imagining how our baby girl might look if she takes after her mother. God help me if she does. “Did you get in?” I ask, breaking the silence. She nods, still
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