Lola’s POV Storm is three now, and he’s decided the top of the garden wall is his new office. Not sitting on it like a normal kid... no, he’s standing up there, arms out for balance, chin set exactly like his dad’s when he’s made up his mind. I’m down in the garden, eyes darting around to make sure every adult in sight is watching this absolute legend in action. “Storm,” I call up. “Get down from there.” He looks at me, makes that little grunt he does when he’s thinking. “That wasn’t a request, buddy.” He considers it for a second, then plops down on his bum instead of standing. Total compromise. He shoots me this proud little grin like he’s just negotiated world peace. He’s got Ocean’s face, my stubborn streak, and Hannah’s wicked sense of humor. We knew he’d be a handful. We were right. “Down,” I say again, firmer this time. He swings his legs over and drops straight into Ezra’s waiting arms on the other side. Of course Ezra was there. Of course Storm knew it. We all play al
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