“Uncle Liam?” Legs yells over the noise. I turn the music down, reach for my coffee in the cupholder. “Yes, sweetie?” “What does ‘get some’ mean?” I choke on my coffee. And I’m caught so off guard that I don’t brake early enough for a red light. I slam my foot down to stop the car. The action jerks Legs forward in her booster seat and sends a gush of coffee all over my white button-down shirt. “Shi—!” The vehicle comes to an abrupt, jerky halt. I twist around in my seat, heart pounding. “Legs! You okay?” “Fine.” Legs giggles, totally unperturbed. Then again, her mother drives like she’s the
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