CHAPTER 1

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I don't know how I got here. It is very frightening.

If you see an angel without wings, run. Well, I learned that the hard way.

"So...should we call you mom?" Diana queried as she sat down beside me on the living room sofa.

"Yeah, if you..."

"Never! She is not our mom and she will never be," Samantha expressed

her honesty. Sam is three years older than Diana who wants to remain eight forever. I don't blame her; the world out there is scary.

I met their father six months ago. I had seen Daniel a couple of times at Berkley Bank - where I work. But we got a chance to exchange names at The Heathman Bar, which is not far from the bank, on the best night of my life; the day I got promoted from a cheap cashier to manager. Even though I was recklessly drunk into a stupor, I can't forget how his windswept, brunette hair fell just over his blue eyes deep enough to swim in, very muscular: what's not to like? His clothes were pretty plain, contrasting deeply with his lopsided smiling face. He wore a regular sweater with regular cuffed jeans and a plaid jacket.

After that, I met him at the mall, bookstore, Starbucks. Come to think of it, I saw him everywhere. And I'm just 28, don't worry Daniel is just a year older than me.

It's been a month and a half since I moved in with Daniel. Why are the children arguing on whether to call me mom or not? Okay, so ready for it? Here we go.

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