as he caught his first full-on glimpse of the little wailer. Nothing in his life up to this point had prepared him for this one moment in time. Everything around him stilled and hushed. With her chocolate-colored hair, wild curls and almond-shaped eyes, she evoked dozens of his own childhood photos. Her green-hazel eyes brought the truth home. He placed his fingers over the bridge of his nose and squeezed tightly, then blinked in rapid succession. Was he seeing things?
He might be all kinds of crazy, but in his humble opinion the toddler was his spitting image. Yes, indeed. This little girl was a Prescott, through and through.
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