“Thank God,” Chance mumbled as Kim had to retreat and find a seat. “Saved by tiny dancers.”

Wes grinned, then everything in the room faded away but his daughter, one of a dozen little girls dressed as butterflies as they pranced across the stage. Brightly colored tissue paper wings fluttered, pigtails bounced and nervous giggles erupted in more than a few of the performers. In the darkness, he and Isabelle held hands, linked together by one beautiful little girl and the heat threatening to engulf them both.

After the performance, Wes stood apart from the group of parents, siblings and relatives. He was watching them all as his mind raced....