My brother lays down the last o with a jaunty snap. Sitting back, he smiles wickedly, then says, “Escondido.” I glare at him. “Yes, thank you. I can spell.” “You can’t use proper nouns!” Seb calls. “Yes, you can,” Oliver and I reply in unison, locked in our mutual stare down. “Or more than seven tiles,” Seb adds. He frowns in confusion. “How did you get so many tiles?” “You get to sneak one extra tile per turn when you draw,” Oliver tells him, still holding my eyes, “unless someone catches you, then you have to return it.” “Bergman rules,” Ziggy explains. To which Gavin adds, grumbling, “It’s
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