Papa wraps his arm around my shoulder and leads me a few feet away, away from prying ears. “So, Frog. What do you think? There’s still time to throw grenades at everybody.”
I laugh and lean my head against him. “Daddy would be really mad if you did. But no, I’ll be fine. I can handle Blaze. And like I said before we got here—”
“Murder is cheaper than divorce,” Papa finishes with me.
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