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one said he had maybe thought so.
The quiet one asked, “Are you mean?”
Lucía started to redirect him but I stopped her.
“No,” I said. “He can ask.”
I looked at the boy. His name, I did not know yet. My son, whose name I did not know yet.
“I don’t want to be,” I told him.
He thought about that with the particular unsentimental seriousness of children, who continue reading …
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