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”
“Of what?”
“Everything.”
She laughed.
Then she grew serious.
“I’m glad.”
“So am I.”
Before dinner, Cooper handed me a handmade ornament. It was a popsicle-stick house with crooked glitter on the roof and a tiny paper flower glued beside the door.
“It’s your house,” he said.
“My suite?”
“No,” he said, with the impatience of a child correcting an adult who has continue reading …
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