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"This is Bree at reception. Miss Prescott would like to speak with you, sir."

She’s downstairs?

"Sure, put her through." I’m curious now. I notice Rosie watching me closely. "Keep working on your drawing," I tell her. She answers with an eye roll. I turn slightly away.

"Hey, I just wanted to know if you got ahold of Rosie’s mother."

That’s why she’s calling?

"Yeah, but she didn’t answer my question about the sweetener." Why doesn’t she just come up?

"I wasn’t sure if I should come up. Maybe I should just go."

"Wait," I stop her. "I’ll allow it. You can take Rosie to the grocery store."

Immediately, Rosie leaps up and comes running squealing with excitement. "I’ll just monitor her levels and see what happens.”

"Really?" she asks cautiously. I get it—she wanted to clear it with me privately, not in front of Rosie. Very considerate. Quite the opposite of how she handled things earlier.

"Yes, come on up."

"Okay, see you in a minute." She hangs up, and I turn back to Rosie.

"Kim’s coming soon. She’ll take you out." Rosie’s practically bouncing, like she’s going to an amusement park. I take out my wallet and hand her a few ten-pound notes. "You’ll buy ingredients for hot chocolate—and some flowers for Kim. Got it?"

"Flowers?" she asks, surprised.

"As a little thank-you for babysitting." If Kim takes her time, that’ll give me a solid hour to actually get work done.

"But I’m not a baby anymore..." Rosie looks horrified.

"That’s just what it’s called, no matter how old the kid is."

"Then call it kid-sitting," she pouts.

"Alright, next time." I ruffle her hair. "Take good care of the money, okay? It’s a lot. You’ll pay at the register yourself. Whatever’s left, we’ll put in your piggy bank."

"Oh, don’t worry. There definitely won’t be anything left."

What can I even say? My niece is a handful. She counts the bills, nods, and tucks the money into her pocket.

"Come on, let’s head to the elevator." Her little backpack—stuffed with toys—is with Sally, so we stop by her desk. We leave the office so she can empty it. After all, she needs space for the ingredients. The glittery unicorn goes on Sally’s desk, the avocado squishy beside her keyboard, a handful of hair clips, ties, and glitter polish lined up neatly. My sister just buys her everything…

"Okay, I’m ready to go!" Rosie beams, grabs my hand, and marches toward the elevator like she’s on an important mission. The indicator light flashes, and the car arrives just as we do. Perfect timing.

"Don’t forget the flowers," I repeat. "That’s important."

"I’m still young. I don’t forget things," she reminds me. She definitely didn’t get this quick wit from her mom.

"Yeah, I thought so."

"Then why’d you even say it?"

"Um…" I earn a questioning look. "Because sometimes I forget how smart you are," I admit with a grin.

"You forget a lot. That’s because you’re already old."

"I’m thirty," I protest.