. . . . . . . . Gerald Larry Kensington . . . . . . .
I punched my passwords into my room's security intercom and the glass doors slid open, letting me in.
I'd stopped by Larry's school to pick him up much earlier than usual.
As soon as the doors slide open, Larry releases his grip around my finger and runs in, a jolt of excitement rushing through him.
"Home!" His fragile, feminine voice screamed.
I smiled at him, watching how his little feet missed each other constantly as he fought to reach the high bed.
I could still remember the days he started walking. He was always very obsessed with climbing my bed and I was always there to catch him when he fell.
I'd had some men over to fix a room for him since he was a baby, but he hasn't used the room much. I always preferred him sleeping next to me where I could see him each time I opened my eyes.