26. Wishful Thinking?

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“Can I… can I hold him?” Angela asked.

She had grown up quite a bit, Angela. Her hair was long, and she had recently had a growth spurt, sending her flying up a few inches. Her magic had gotten increasingly better, and she had finally learned the controls to brake on her broom.

“Of course,” Saki whispered. She set the bundle of blue blankets into the witch’s arms, noticing the tears that slid down her cheeks.

Angela stayed quiet for a moment, staring down at the boy. He stared back at her with large, brown eyes.

“What’s his name?”

“Colin,” Saki answered. She then pointed to the two cribs, where the girls slept side by side, “and those two are Skylar and Genevieve.”

“They’re… they’re amazing,” Angela whispered. She still kept her gaze on Colin, and the little boy reached out and grabbed her nose. The two giggled softly as he pinched and poked Angela’s face. “I wish Mifune could be here,” she muttered wistfully.

Saki pushed the damp hair out of her eyes, and pursed her lips. She would not cry. “I know,” She finally said, staring down at the girls. “Me too.”

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