Most parents have a tendency to be over protective of their young. They think that the child needs to be constantly watched, constantly attended to. They imagine danger around every corner and take outrageous precautions.
Ginny was protective of her four, almost five, year old son.
So much so that the world hadn't even been aware of his existence until he was three.
He'd been a secret for most of his life.
The difference was that the danger was not imaginary. Several people would have loved to have gotten their hands on little Cody. They would have liked to kill him. Or maybe they would have used his magical ability or prodigal mind for their own reasons.
Despite this danger, the child had so far lived as normal a life as he could have.
Still, as mother and child walked through the forest one warm Saturday, Ginny couldn't help but keep a watchful eye. She instructed him to stay close, with seeing distance. She couldn't help it. He was her baby.
Both were dressed in jeans and t-shirts, apparently had been out playing all day. From young Cody's shoulders were wings, black satin feathers ruffling now and then in the small wind. His hair, the same color as his wings, flew across his eyes. He brushed it away as he ran around, now and then doing a flip or a cartwheel.
Ginny smiled to herself as she watched him run, his boundless energy seeming to seep into her by association. The thing was, Cody was her life. He was the reason she lived today. Years ago, he had been the sole reason she awoke each morning.
He was still her angel.
Cody suddenly stopped and turned his head to the side, as if listening to something he could hardly hear. His grin grew wide and he turned, facing Ginny and putting his hands on his hips.
"Mom! I think I can hear other peoples thoughts!" He said excitedly.