"Don't be sad, Red," Angel muttered softly, his gaze resting on the center of her parted hair. "I will write to you every day, just like we write to your father."
"I don't want to go…" Elle sobbed into her knees, her voice muffled. "I want to stay here with everyone. I want Aunt Belle to do my hair every morning, I want to play with Rosey and Uncle Rohan… I want to stay where you are and wait until Papa comes back like you say, but Mama says I will get sick again if we stay." Her small shoulders began to tremble.
Elle hated being sick, but she couldn't help it. She hated making everyone worry, and worst of all, she hated that they would leave when, until now, she had imagined herself living here until her Papa returned, her Papa, who her Mama said was far away and wrote letters to them.
As if realizing something, Elle raised her tear-stained face to look at Angel. "If we leave, how am I to write to Papa and receive his letters?" Her sobs grew louder.
