“How was I?”
“Terrible.”
Her mouth dropped open.
I grinned.
“You were amazing.”
“That wasn’t funny.”
“It was a little funny.”
She hugged me around the waist.
Children are strange that way.
Adults spend months deciding whether they trust someone.
Children often know much sooner.
When she released me, she looked at the wall behind us.
The old handprint mural had been preserved.
My purple handprint remained near the bottom.
Belle had added hers beside it.
BELLE V. — AGE 6
Purple too.
“You copied me.”
“I improved it.”
“Rude.”
“Mine has glitter.”
“That is admittedly difficult to compete with.”
Harlan approached from the hallway.
“You’re teaching my daughter sarcasm.”
“I think that ship sailed before I arrived.”
Belle nodded.
“Dad is sarcastic.”
“I am surrounded by traitors.”
Mara appeared behind him.
“Family.”
“Same thing.”
Belle grabbed Mara’s hand.
“Come see the cupcakes.”
Mara allowed herself to be dragged away.
