“She likes you.” “How can you tell?” “She’s smiling. Trust me, she wouldn’t smile like that if she didn’t like you.” “She looks like a little angel.” Mark smiled and crouched down in front of me. “Do you like me, munchkin? Hmm? Are you going to talk to me?” “Oh, no, no, no. She might look like one, but don’t let that angelic face fool you,” Caoimhe laughed. “She screams like a banshee when she feels like it.” “I bet I can get her to talk,” he said, tucking my hair behind my ear. “You can try.” Caoimhe scoffed. “But no doctor has been able to fix her.” “Would you like that, munchkin?” Mark
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I’m gonna be sick
