Janice huffed and turned her head away, muttering in mock threat, "Fine. Don't take me with you—then I'll just run away with your son."
Her words made Charles both irritated and amused. Leaning in shamelessly, he murmured, "No matter where you run, I'll always bring you back."
"Ugh, I hate you. Sleep by yourself tonight!" Janice stood up from his lap and headed toward the door, but Charles caught her just in time.
"Be good. Trista's asleep—don't wake her up. I promise I won't touch you tonight, okay?"
"Hmph!" Janice tilted her chin high like a little queen and refused to look at him again. She slid into the blankets, and true to his word, Charles didn't so much as hug her that night.
Still, without his usual embrace, she found herself grumbling under her breath, oddly unsettled by the absence of his warmth. But she said nothing, pulling the quilt over her head and willing herself to sleep.
