CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

Caitlin ran. She was in a field of flowers, up to her waist, the flowers a brilliant medley of colors. It was a bright day, the sun directly overhead, and in the distance, her father waited.

But as she ran, the flowers turned into a field of swords, all plunged into the earth, their tips sticking up and shaking in the wind. She ran through them, cutting a path, heading for her father.

This time, there was nothing between the two of them. As she ran and ran, he got closer. She ran for all she had, and soon, she was in his arms.

She could not believe it, but she was really in his arms.

He hugged her, and she could feel his strength coursing through her body. It was the hug of a father who loved her, the father she’d always longed to have. She wanted to crane back her head, to look up at his face, but she was too happy to just be in his arms.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said over her shoulder. “You are your father’s daughter.”

She smiled, feeling totally encased in warmth.

“When will