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To Robby’s horror, the sob he’d been holding back escaped. He pressed his fist to his lips but it was too late. Tears welled in his eyes, burning his already irritated skin. Wyatt shot Charlie a scathing look. “See what you did?” Charlie sucked in a breath. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. Come to mama. Let it all out.” She patted her lap. Robby eyed her warily, annoyed that he wanted to let this strange girl comfort him, but Wyatt gave him a gentle shove and a reassuring smile. “Go ahead. She won’t stop nagging until you do. She’s powered by gay tears.”
Robby’s face crumpled, and for a split second, Calder feared the boy might start crying again. “Jesus, Barbie, stop helping. Also, for the love of God, never volunteer for a suicide hotline.” Charlie scoffed. “Like I’d ever make that mistake again. Laugh at one clown…” Calder stared at her for far too long, unable to tell if she was joking but fearing she wasn’t.
At the rate he was going, he was going to owe Wyatt a new wardrobe. Could you return somebody’s clothes after you’d come in them? What was the proper etiquette there?
“Think you can take another finger?” “I could probably take a tractor trailer back there by now,” Robby grumbled. “That’s the spirit,” Calder said around a laugh.

