“Yes. Whether you like it or not. You’re part of this neighborhood now, even if you did refuse my cookies when you moved in. We have a reputation to uphold.” Somehow me refusing her cookies sounds like a dirty double entendre, even though I know she literally means cookies. But I don’t remember refusing them. “When was that?” She throws her hands into the air and drops them at her sides. “This summer!” I can almost imagine her stomping her foot like Sophie does when she gets mad. “Right after you moved in. I made a batch of cookies and brought them over to welcome you to the neighborhood. You
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