“The sink,” she hiccupped, “the sink spit on me when I washing my hands and I needed a big towel. I fell. I fell. I hurt…”

Anons from My Muses Children || Selectively Accepting

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As he held her close, he pursed his lips as he nodded in understanding. How could he have let this happen? Effortlessly he scooped her up, carrying her to the kitchen and setting her on the counter beside the sink. He wet a towel with cold water before pressing it to the cut on her head. “What hurts the most? Daddy can fix the cut at home, but we might need to go to the hospital, okay?”

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