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the last night, we sat at a plastic table near the water eating fried plantains from paper plates and listening to the sound of the ocean.
Ethan leaned against my shoulder.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
He watched Ava chase foam near the shoreline, running back when a wave came close, which it always did.
“I’m glad we didn’t go on the birthday trip.”
I looked at him. “Why?continue reading …
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