" Camilla, Henry, Thomas, you greedy monsters,” Dad said. “Not a crumb left for your father? That’s it, you’re not my children. You’re just sad, bald monkeys I won from circus folk in a poker game.”
Ten retreated with his prize and went back to lean against Dad’s leg. He split the brownie in two and offered half silently up to Dad.
“Well,” Dad conceded, “I guess you might be my kid after all. "
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