wasn’t expecting to run into three more Wellington children, or should I say Stax’s kids who were close to my age, when we arrived. Meeting the triplets Santina, Santara, and Santino Junior was wild as hell because the girls looked like older versions of Cece, and Santino Jr., S.J. as he preferred to be called, looked like his fine-ass daddy with short curly hair. They were only a year younger than I was and S.J. already had a kid.
