Michelle
Esmerelda didn’t move. She just kept standing there as I turned to look at her in horror. I found myself frozen in place, staring at the girl.
“No,” her father said, standing up and walking toward her, briefly brushing against me. Suddenly, the area where he touched became ultra-sensitive, the exposed skin on my arm nearly burning under his brief touch. I raised my arm, hugging myself and wishing things were different—heck, wishing that I was home.
“She’s going to take you away.”
“No, please!”
I snapped out of my reverie and looked at the little girl, who now had tears streaming down her face.
“I’m not going to take your father away,” I said, moving from my spot and walking toward her. Finally in front of her, I crouched down into a position that brought me to her eye leve
