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children did.
That day, he climbed onto a stool, reached into the mixing bowl, and swiped frosting with his finger.
“Don’t tell your dad,” I said.
His eyes widened, not with mischief, but with fear.
I set the spatula down slowly. “Hey. It’s okay. I was teasing.”
He looked toward the hallway, toward the living room where Garrett was on a business call and continue reading …
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