After thirty minutes of Nico sticking by my side, I tell him to go play with his friends. “You’re really not leaving?” he asks. “Not unless you want me to.” A friend yells for Nico to come play, but he doesn’t budge. I grab one of the Nerf guns off the table and kneel in front of him. “Don’t spend your birthday worrying about me. I’ll be here the whole time, protecting the cake from anyone who gets any funny ideas.” I’d already seen a few kids eyeing the custom-made cake by Alana Castillo, and I wouldn’t put it past them to sneak a swipe or two of frosting when no one is looking. Nico
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