. . . . . . . . Lexy's P. O. V. . . . . . . . .

" Mom?" The young Lexy called, resting her little head on her mother's breasts.

The young mother's hands runs through her little girl's hair, brushing them from her face as the night breeze carried it forth and back. She lost count of how many times she has gazed at her little one under the crescent moon. She only wished things had turned out so differently at the beginning.

She had had Valerie when she was very young and although that had left a scar on her heart, she remained the...