Stories, health tips, and curious facts made simple.
My husband, Watson, came in and kissed the side of my head.
« You okay? »
« I’m fine. »
He looked at the cake.
Two big candles sat beside it. One and eight.
« You okay? »
Behind the flour tin, where only I could see it, was the tiny white candle I lit every year for Rowan.
Watson followed my eyes.
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