I hesitated for half a second before sliding over, perching on the edge because I still wasn’t sure if this was real or just some temporary high before the crash. “Not cookies,” he said, shaking his head. “Just… talking. Those kids have it rough, some of them way rougher than I did back then. But they’re tough. Resilient. Reminds me that things doesn’t stay broken forever. One of the boys asked me about my old car projects, and before I knew it I was in the garage showing him how to change oil on that junker out back. Felt good.”I nodded slowly, picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion because looking at him too long made my eyes sting in a way I hated. “Hmm. Sounds… nice, I guess. Better than staring at the wall or crying in the driveway, anyway.” The words slipped out before I could filter them, and I winced a little, but Dad just chuckled like he expected it. I couldn’t help the small grin that broke through again. “Just don’t go all nostalgic and decide to adopt a bunch
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