15; Luna.

Camila Castello.

“Luna!” I got down on my knees, just in time my daughter came bouncing into my open, and awaiting arms. The moment she was safely in my hold, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close to me. I placed my head on hers, taking a whiff of her scent that always calm me down, while her small arms wrapped around my neck.

“My baby,” I cooed. Pulling back to keep her at arms-length, I playfully narrowed my eyes at her, “Tell me,” My hand went to her head, patting down the few tendrils that escaped the neat pigtails. “Have you been good to Uncle Salazar and Aunt Ria?” I asked, referring to Joana’s parents, whom have been acting as god parents to the little girl in my absence.

Luna’s small lips slanted upwards into a mischievous smile as she feigned a look of thought. “Uhm…” She then bobbed her shoulders, a small chuckle escaping. “…maybe?”

If possible, my eyes narrowed even more because her saying that only means she’s given the two a tough time—an action she’s way too