Page 333 of When a Soul Cries

"There go my girl," I said, laughing as I lifted her into my arms.

At two years old, Halo had officially figured out that everybody in this family was wrapped around her little finger.

Especially me.

Her curls bounced around her face as she wrapped both arms around my neck and squeezed me.

Sol walked out behind me and shook her head, watching the way Halo immediately settled against my chest like that was exactly where she belonged.

"That's why she's spoiled," Sol said, pointing between me and our daughter.

"She ain't spoiled." I frowned like the accusation offended me.

Sol looked at me.

I looked at her.

We both glanced toward the playroom where a miniature luxury car sat beside enough toys to open a daycare.

I cleared my throat. "She moderately spoiled."

Sol laughed and rolled her eyes. "Okay, Roman."

Halo suddenly lifted her head from my shoulder, her eyes going toward the hallway as another familiar voice traveled upstairs.

"Sugga!"

My mama's voice came from downstairs. "I'm coming, Sugga's baby!"

I groaned and dropped my head.

Sol burst out laughing. "You think you're bad? Sugga is worse."

My mother appeared at the top of the stairs a few seconds later and immediately looked past me toward Sol.

"You eat?" Sugga asked, her eyes already moving over Sol like she was conducting a full inspection.

Sol sighed. "Good morning, Sugga."

"Good morning." Sugga walked closer without missing a beat. "What you eat?"

"Eggs, toast and fruit."

"All of it?"

"Yes."

"Take your vitamin?"

"Yes."

"Got water?"

I shook my head. "Ma, damn."

Sugga's eyes snapped toward me. "What?"

"She pregnant, not helpless."