“Uh, yeah, hi,” he stammered. “My name is Michael. I’m looking for my dad. Cash Williams.” “I’m here, Michael,” Cash said, stepping fully into view. “Rebecca, this is Michael.” Rebecca turned ashen. “He’s your son?” “Yep.” A grin split Michael’s face. “Cash is my dad.” Cash shook his head. It wasn’t the truth, but Michael was adamant that it didn’t have to be on court paper for it to be reality. Almost everybody in Yearly knew that Michael didn’t actually belong to Cash by blood or on paper, but nobody ever bothered the boy or Cash about it. “How old is he?” she squeaked. “Twelve.” Cash shared
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