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have different priorities.”
That morning, I woke to silence.
No alarm.
No guilt.
No command performance.
I lay in bed for a while, listening to Milo scratch at Caleb’s door and the furnace kick on.
Then I heard Caleb in the kitchen.
When I came out, he was making pancakes from a mix, wearing pajama pants and the same green sweater from the night before.
“Merry continue reading …
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