Brendan chuckled.

“Sanford won.”

Frankie turned to Sanford, skeptical.

“Is that really the case?”

Sanford quickly shook his head.

“No, Uncle Brendan won this round, hands down.”

Brendan’s smile remained easy and warm.

“Shall we keep playing?”

Sanford said, “How about you two take a turn now?”

A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y

Frankie waved his hand dismissively.

been at

other’s strategies; it’s

Sanford’s eyes lit up.

another turn

grin widened “Sanford, this time

what you’ve

it,” Sanford said, determination clear in his

dove back into

the wall, watching with quiet

not a chess expert, followed the game

on the sofa, having just won their game against Barlow and

Kyson shouted, his

a high

her hand with

hands in

down and

you go

him a frosty

I’m such a problem, find a

I’m done playing.

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