“You can’t really believe he’s who he says he is … do you? You can’t honestly think I’m going to the North Pole. Mom, that stuff is all fantasy. It’s a lie. It’s not real.” Olivia heard the desperation in her own voice and hoped her mom did, too.

Her mom stared at her with a sad frown. She reached over and took Olivia’s hand in hers.

“I haven’t always believed,” she whispered to Olivia as if she were sharing a secret. “But I changed, and yes, I believe now. I believe in magic, and hope and faith and everything that makes this world beautiful.”

“Daddy wouldn’t send me away.” Olivia knew it was a low blow, and she regretted it the second she said it. But despite her insensitive comment, her mom gave her a gentle smile. Olivia missed her dad so much, but she knew her mom missed him just as much, probably more even.

“Maybe not,” her mom said softly. “But it’s just us now. Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you, Mom. But I want to stay here with you and Sam. I’m sorry for being a bad kid, I really am! I’ll –”

The Santa guy chuckled softly, but Olivia’s mother jumped to her feet and dropped to her knees in front of Olivia. She cupped her daughter’s cheeks with her hands and stared into her eyes.

“You are not a bad kid. Never. Not even close. You are my wonderful, kind, sweet daughter who I love more than anything in this world. I just think that Mr. Kringle here can help you better bring out all the parts of you that you’ve seemed to tuck away. And I think, no I know, that this is going to help you. I believe in you. Can you believe in me?”

Mr. Kringle, Olivia thought scornfully. She supposed this camp was going to be an all-out Christmas role playing thing. Just as she was getting ready to protest again, he cleared his throat.

“You’ll be able to talk to your mom every day, Olivia. And you’ll be home on Christmas Eve.”

“Plus,” her mom said, tapping the pile of papers, “this says that you will be on a few outings that will bring you back here close to home, so I’ll even be able to visit you.”

Realizing she wasn’t going to win this time, Olivia looked to the man with a grimace. “When do we leave, sir?”

“Right now. Go pack, little dove.”

Olivia sucked in a breath at the use of the nickname that only her father ever used for her.

“Where did you hear that?” Olivia whispered, eyes narrowed. “Did you tell him, Mom?”

“I did not. He’s Santa, Livy. He knows all kinds of things.”

Olivia just shook her head. “Whatever,” she said, heading to her room to pack and muttering to herself in frustrated anger the whole way.

“I suppose we’ll be taking the sleigh,” her mom and Kris Kringle heard her say before her door slammed shut.

Kris chuckled low and deep, smiling wide at Elizabeth. “I must say, I can’t wait until she sees how right she is!”

Read chapter three in tomorrow’s newspaper.