Pulling a handkerchief from his coat, Mr. Fox coughed into it, before neatly folding it and putting it away. She noticed it was a simple square of cotton, with no embellishments or initials stitched into the material. Her fingers suddenly twitched with the desire to do just that for him. To stitch a G and an F into the cloth, as a sign that someone valued him enough to gift him something pretty. Ana María suspected Mr. Fox had been on his own so long that he’d grown used to the utilitarian, and such details were beneath his notice. Ana María ached to give him a reason to notice beautiful
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