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