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... his little feet, babbling excitedly. His curls were a tangled mess from the towel, his cheeks flushed with the enthusiasm only a three-year-old could muster.
The warm light from the overhead lamp cast long shadows, but Zara’s mind was elsewhere, spinning over what Leo had been saying.
"Bigger," he said again, stretching his arms as wide as they could go. "And, and, and—brighter."
Zara nodded. "I know, baby. You told me that before."
Leo frowned, brows scrunching, ...
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