“Angel? Is that really you, baby?”It was less a word than a disbelieving breath.She nodded.A raw, guttural sound tore from me—half sob, half laugh—as I crushed her to me in a tight hug, rocking back and forth on the floor.“Mommy,” she sobbed.I covered her face in kisses, my hands frantically patting her face, her back, her arms, assuring myself she wasn't a ghost, she was real.“You’re here, you’re here, baby, you’re here,” I chanted into her hair.Then I loosened my grip on Angel just enough to look at her.I reached out with trembling hands, touching her face—her cheeks, her forehead, her hair. Then her arms. Her shoulders. Her back. Her legs.“You’re sure you’re okay, my love? Nothing hurts?”“I’m hungry,” she said, with the sublime, devastating normality of a child.I blinked.I didn’t expect that answer at all. A hysterical laugh bubbled in my throat.“That is not a problem. I will order food for you, okay? I am so happy. I am so, so happy. I can’t believe it.”I burst into
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