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    Summary

    "She has a daughter. Little over five years old. If I may say so, she's the spitting image of you, sir."

    He reached into his pocket and pulled up a photo on his phone, handing it to Sunday. Sunday's heart lurched into his throat as he studied the little girl with gray hair and golden eyes, an unusually ornate halo hovering behind her head. She looked nothing at all like Ellia, and the spokes of her halo, shaped like open eyes, were a clear and damning indicator of parentage.

    "I didn't know," Sunday whispered, staring at the child while his heart did something complicated and painful in his chest. "I never knew."

     

    or: Sunday takes in a traumatized five-year-old and cares for her, with some sunturine on the side

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    8,845
    Chapters:
    2/?
    Comments:
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    Kudos:
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