The Master's Child
Still panting, he withdraws, releasing me and I roll onto the bed, both my husbands watching me.
My Master's voice is dry. "Is that enough proof for you?" Then his eyes widen, and he points. "Look!"
"What? What is it?"
I swing around then realise where both he and Michael are looking, and my gaze drops to join theirs.
And there, where Elephant tee-shirt stretches over me, drawn tight, quite clearly visible is the outline of a tiny handprint, pressing outwards.
My Master, grinning delightedly, snatches up his phone again, opening the camera and flicking on to video. The tiny hand moves. "She's waving! Peanut is waving 'Hello'."
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