Chapter 163 Syrup and Crayons

Mila’s POV

Grace flung the door open before I could knock.

“Mila!” she shouted, launching herself at me like a missile.

I caught her, stumbling back a step as her arms wrapped around my neck. She smelled like syrup and crayons — the unofficial perfume of nine‑year‑olds.

“You’re early,” she sai...

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