Pelya yelled, standing and turning toward him. “You’ve been the best father ever and I’ll not have you listen to him or any of the others.” “Others?” Frath asked with tension in his jaw. “Who else has insulted you?” “It’s not like that,” Pelya responded in frustration. “You get mad when you think people hurt me, but they’re hurting you instead. I hate it when you feel bad.” “I . . . didn’t realize. I try my best to protect you from all that.” He ran a hand through his hair and stared at his own oatmeal. Pelya sat next to him on the bed again. “Daddy, I’m not a little girl anymore. I know people are stupid and dangerous . . . and everyone in the world thinks bad thoughts about me and probably wants to feed me to carnivorous fairies.” She got the chuckle she wanted from him. “I just don’t want you to feel bad.” He looked at her and then back at the oatmeal, spreading the last of it around the bottom. “I like thinking of you as a little girl.
