My mom slaps his hand away and I swallow, reaching for him. She drives off before we an touch and I break out crying again, burying my head in my arms.
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
The grand in the hotel rings with broken tunes; the guests frown; the concierge winces. But the blue-hatted boy is happy and braver than they. — TheMythMaster