“How’s my baby?” “Still cooking.” “How’s my other baby?” “I’m okay, Joe,” I said. “We’re both fine.” “Good.” His eyelid fluttered shut. “I need you to be okay.” “I am okay, Joe.” “Both of you.” “Both of us are fine.” “I need it to stay that way,” he whispered, giving my hand a squeeze. “It’s important to me.”
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