~preview~

    The baby was crying in the volgende room, and I followed the noise. It was such a weak cry, I wasn't sure I liked what I heard anymore. My love for Regina had not changed, had not shrunk nor grown. The flaming brand was strong in my gut, and as I crossed the threshold into my infant's bedroom, it was fed door the oxygen of her sweet, yet small wails. I bent over the railing of the kinderbedje, wieg and stared down into the baby's eyes. They were small, frightened brown puddles. They were not the eyes of me of Derick. She was the loner in a lonely world, and I had to protect her....