Mist’s POV
Watching Stella emerge from under the bed like a startled yet triumphant little creature, imploring me to keep her secret, my heart finally settles. It is immediately filled with a gentle warmth and tenderness. Unable to resist, I reach out to gently dab the dust from her chubby cheek. "You little rascal, why are you hiding here? You nearly scared your dad to death."
Stella scrambles onto the bed beside me, her little legs swinging freely in the air. She clings to my arm, her head burrowing in with trust, the earlier mischief in her eyes now replaced with shimmering tears and a pout beginning to form on her lips.
“It’s not my fault,” she mumbles softly, in that endearing, childish tone of complaint. “It's Daddy’s fault. I've wanted to visit you for ages, Mist, but Daddy said
