Page 112 of A Courage of the Chosen

“We promise.” He drops a kiss to the top of her head and something ugly twists in my stomach as awareness creeps in at the edges of this tender moment.

The monsters Erin fears so much, that magic they possess, lives inside of me, too. At least part of it, anyway. It only makes me more determined, and the chains I’ve wrapped around that cold magic secure themselves a little tighter.

I won’t give her anymore reasons to be scared.

She comes to me and hugs me tightly, as though she can keep me right where I am with will alone.

“Promise?” she asks again, so quiet only I can hear her.

I hold Erin to me. “On my crown, sweetie. We’ll come back.”

The reality is, I can’t guarantee that, and her arms tighten around my neck like she knows it, too.

Seemingly satisfied for now, she lets me go, sitting in the middle of us to start a new drawing. Her little tongue pokes out the side of her mouth as she focuses on the trees that are taking shape.

“Could we have pizza for dinner? All of us?” She doesn’t lift her head when she asks. It’s uncommon for Erin to request anything, and when she does, there’s more than one of us racing to see to it.

“I’ll go and speak to Colin right now, and make sure he sends us extra ice cream,” Reyne says, leaving Callahan and I alone with Erin.

Erin points to the stack of paper. “Draw with me, please.”

She seems to like sitting in the silence with us, and we’ve been more than happy to give her whatever she needs.

Fighting a smile, Callahan sits on the ground, and crosses his legs as he reaches for a blank sheet and one of the pencils. I join them, select an orange crayon, and begin doodling a sunset.

That’s how the next hour or so passes, the three of us quietly drawing together, with Erin peppering us with questions here and there.

I’d never given much thought as to if I wanted children. Honestly, I’d be happy either way. But watching Callahan with Erin . . . a different vision shimmers at the edges of my consciousness.

A little girl with blond hair and gray eyes.

Or maybe a boy, with milk-chocolate waves and pale-green irises.

Could that be our future?

You can’t hide for that long. The snarky comment from my own heart cruelly reminds me that it may not be a possibility for us. In fact, it’s highly unlikely.

So I let that dream drift away, like clouds caught in the wind. A fleeting desire that I refuse to let myself hold onto.

Erin proudly shows us her drawing sometime later. Three figures, hand in hand in the forest. “That’s me,” she points to the one in the middle. “And that’s Elsie and Callahan,” she gestures to the other characters in the picture.

She’d spent so long on the trees, making them the perfect shape and shaded with some skill, that she clearly ran out of enthusiasm for the stick figures that are meant to be us, but she holds it out for us with a tentative eagerness that I can say nothing else but, “Amazing work, Erin. We’ll get it framed for your room, how’s that?”

She nods warily. “Let’s see yours.”

Erin takes mine, and tilts her head as she rotates the paper one way and then the other. “What is it?”

“A sunset,” I laugh and take it back. “I’m not as good at drawing as you.”

“No, you’re not.”

Callahan snorts.

Gotta love the honesty of kids.

Erin turns her attention to Cal. “What did you draw?”

He shows us what he’s been working on, and my jaw drops.