The workshop door was slightly ajar. He pushed it open—scrape, bang—and a deluge of frigid water poured down on him. Behind him, Jewel dissolved into hysterical giggles. His wife turned around from her workbench, a knife and wax ring model in her hands. “She got you,” Amy said. “Again.” Seeing Colin standing there, drenched, his hair plastered to his head and hanging to his shoulders in thick wet tendrils, she burst into laughter. Colin reached back to pull his still-giggling daughter into the room. With a violent shake of his head, he sprayed droplets of cold water onto her small head and
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