My Brother Hid a Recording Module Beneath His Daughter’s Dining Chair
“We can talk after the meat is served.”
The knife went through in long slices.
Juice ran across the board and onto the wood.
Marcus served Elisa first, then me, then a smaller piece for Sophia.
“Thank you,” Sophia whispered.
“Eat,” Marcus said.
She picked up her fork.
Then she put both hands flat on the seat and shifted her weight.
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