Somehow, when he hadn't been paying attention, love with its steel-binding nylon tentacles had networked all through his soul, hopelessly enmeshing him and taking him prisoner. He thought he had shored up his defenses rather well and that he was impervious to any assault. He had thought wrong. The walls had been breached with surprising ease. A child had managed it. Griff looked down at his niece as she slept in her crib. She had been part of his life for a month now and in that time she had grown. In size. He had grown as well, grown emotionally. Liz had been right. He did care about the little girl. It would have taken a very hard heart not to, a heart like the ones he encountered when he was growing up. Ones with no love in them, at least not for him. The families he had been forced to stay with had been concerned with him only because he meant a monthly stipend from the government and another pair of working hands at home. He had meant nothing more to any of them.