Ethan's POVBy the time I got home from work, it was dark outside. The front door hadn't been fully closed. The entryway and living room were in disarray.Our family portrait had been thrown on the floor. Harry was crouched over it with a marker, doodling all over the picture. With a pair of scissors, he cut out the part where I was.As he worked, he muttered to himself, "I wish this were Mr. Lockood instead."In the past, I would've tried to teach him right from wrong. Now, I simply ignored him and walked past.Tracy was sitting on the couch. When she heard me come in, she looked up, displeasure evident on her face. "What took you so long? Dinner still isn't ready. Harry's starving."My steps slowed as I looked at them. For five years, no matter how late I worked or how exhausted I was, I had to come home and cook for them, clean the house, and do the laundry."There are leftovers in the fridge from yesterday. Just put it in the microwave for three minutes," I said, then smiled
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