Charles White got up and looked at the person nestled in his arms, sleeping soundly, unable to bear waking her.
He tidied her up, then placed her into the Quilt, allowing her to sleep well.
Getting up with his Cell Phone, he walked to the Balcony, closed the door, and then dialed a telephone number.
"Dad, it's me. I may need you to return home early…"
Charles White hung up the phone and his tall silhouette moved to the Bedside, quietly watching Zoe Yale on the Bed.
Her delicate features resembled those of a Doll.
Her face was the size of a palm, with skin as smooth as porcelain; asleep, she looked like an Angel fallen to earth.
Charles White sat beside her, his long fingers gently tracing her Face, as if wanting to etch the person before him into his heart.
Last night was unexpected, but he wouldn't let this beautiful surprise harm her.
"Molly, our Molly." Charles murmured softly, lips slightly parted.
