What if I was being naïve? What if my trust was misplaced? What if something was happening that I would regret not stopping?
I stood there holding a warm towel, my heart beating faster than it should have. I told myself I would just peek—just a quick check. A responsible parent’s duty.
Before I could overthink it, I walked down the hall, my steps quicker than usual. I reached her bedroom door, took a breath, and opened it.
And froze.
My daughter wasn’t sitting on her bed. She wasn’t giggling. She wasn’t even looking at Noah.
She was kneeling on the floor.
So was he.
Between them lay a large piece of cardboard covered in sketches, handwritten notes, and carefully arranged photographs. Open notebooks were scattered around. Colored markers lay uncapped. A laptop sat open, paused on a slideshow.
continued on next page
For complete cooking times, go to the next page or click the Open button (>), and don't forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.
