my sweet , darling | open, intro.
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[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; color: #494949; font-family: karla; font-size: 8pt; letter-spacing: 0.2px; word-spacing: 1px; margin-top: 10px;"]millie's wanted to be a mother for as long as she could remember. dillon would argue with her on this, but she'd assumed the parental figure in their lives , not too far off behind the young women and men who babysat them. dillon came back from a long day of 'rounding the cattle , there she was with leftovers at ready . and when he slept , she tucked him into bed , soothing voice a lullaby that last til' the next hour.  at the age of eight , millie would tag along to care for the newborns whose parents they'd never know. she had an obsession with rocking them , humming , sometimes even pretending as if they were her own. and maybe , one day she would.

she knows little derive from fantasies , but her mind can't help but wander: to a little boy — or if she were lucky — or girl that she could say was her own. settling beneath the covers , millie would recite her faith to a young girl who hasn't anything but her future ahead of her. she knows she shouldn't want to make a lasting impression , but she would , as if it were up to her , she'd watch her daughter grow in the willful young woman she knows she could be. she knows she shouldn't harbor such desires , alas she would never speak them out loud. but she can't help it. not as if wishes would change her reality anyway. that she would eventually be a sacrifice and that there would not be a child in her wake.

something was wrong with her — something that deprived her from being able to have the only thing she's ever remembered wanting in life. months after her eighteenth birthday , in the presence of kai , she'd pray. she remembers him saying nothing was too big or too little to hope for , however , that doesn't mean it's guarantee. by the time of carter , her nephew's , birth , she had come to accept her fate. she wasn't meant to be a biological mother. to have someone to live and carry whatever tiny legacy she carried with her.  she holds onto kai's words , the ones that claims she's destined for something far more important. to be the path for those who don't have that parental figure to lead them.

she carried that legacy in tow , more with carter than anything else. his birthday was this month and he's smart for his age . he correlates sentences , mumbles along during mass . during sermons he has trouble keeping engaged , but she has no doubt where his faith will eventually lie. she knows it's not what dillon wants . he tries to convince her that there's somewhere better than here , where they could raise carter , be a family. the part that fantasized dwells on how nice that might be . but the logical half is bewildered by the idea he could be as deluded as that . living to raise one's child is raising them into sin. as far as she's concerned , there was no safe place other than here; not without falling into temptation. when she looks at her nephew , it's the last thing she wants for him. even if that means that being in his future is where she's not meant to be.

she sat there with him , no day different than the other. there both of them sat on an old wooden porch swing , nestled beneath a worn knitted blanket. as long as he laid against her , she promised , he was safe. inside , there was chaos. as the sun set , children readied themselves for bed. some restless , some cried , still devastated by the revelation a young prophet may have faced an unfortunate fate. not only that , but sickness was in wake , far worse than previous winters . siblings and friends separated , as those who were ill were quaratiened elsewhere. only paying that maybe , they'll back it. maybe.  she doesn't want to think about it , so she continues to swing back and forth

back and forth , as she played with strands of carter's hair , while mumbling songs only The Pastor could decipher. the sun's setting cast the sky a lovely orange. it's cold , but worth seeing. a brief distraction from a possibility that their life was crumbling to pieces. they'll rebound from this . burying her nose into the carter's dirty blonde air, she mumbles into his hair, "we have to."


[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: center; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 1.4;"]I'M [I]HIGH AS A PRIVATE JET. —
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