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anymore?”
He didn’t answer right away. He stared at the floor, his fingers twisting the hem of his shirt.
Then he whispered something so soft I almost missed it.
“No lunch.”
I froze.
“No lunch?” I repeated, my voice barely steady.
He nodded and buried his face in my chest, as if he’d said something shameful.
My mind raced. Johnny wasn’t a picky eater. He continue reading …
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