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... ared up at the darkening sky, taking a small break for themselves that evening, having washed away all the marks and paints their children had assaulted them with their play.

“The old man says that Jirot and Jarot, they’re sleeping a little better,” Adam said. “He said that Jirot’s sleeping better, so that means Jarot is sleeping better.”

A small smile crossed Vonda’s lips, the woman closing her eyes, squeezing her husband’s hand. “I pray every night.”

“Yeah,” Adam whispe ...

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