He was behind me faster than a bullet and far enough I couldn’t feel him. I waited. I thought about why I should be running and screaming by now, but he was so kind and sweet and mysterious. He threw danger signs in every direction. He kidnapped me, right? But the sun. He's important somehow. I trust him. “Happy Birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear...Happy Birthday to you,” his deep voice sounded behind me leaving out my name or that ridiculous nickname he has found for me. He slid a small cake in front and leaned down on his knees beside me. A single candle stood in the middle. The yellow icing was smoothed with uneven ridges all around it. “Not what I would expect from your kitchen.” “I made it.” My eyes went wide with some kind of feeling I couldn’t describe. “You made this, for me?” He smiled the goofy grin of a schoolboy. The same way I did when I found out I had won my father’s attention for something or another.
