Ren takes her from me greedily, like he’s been waiting for this moment, and props Lucia up in one arm, pinned to his chest. Her hands go straight to his beard, and she tugs. “Easy, Luce,” he croons, guiding her hands from his face. “Gentle.” “Gentle.” Frankie snorts. “That child doesn’t know the meaning of the word.” “Wonder where she gets that?” I ask. I narrowly avoid being whacked in the shins by Frankie’s cane. I swear, the women in this family rule us with an iron fist.
