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“I’m great! I found a spider in the boy’s bathroom. Can I bring it home?”

“Maybe later. We’re still feeding the frog you kept, remember?”

“But Kermit would love a friend!”

“I’m fairly certain that he might try to eat the spider.”

“Ah, man. Ok, mom. Hey, did you bring snacks?”

His gaze is hopeful, searching my face for signs of the treats I sometimes smuggle from the break room.

“You know we’re going home to eat dinner, but I suppose a couple peanut butter crackers won’t hurt.”

Jake whoops, like I’ve just told him the best news in the world as I fish the broken snack out of my purse.

Crumbles fall everywhere as he tears into the wrapper, and I take his hand to walk us to the sub.

Once we’re on and seated, I ask Jake about his day.

Watching his face light up sparks a rare smile on mine.

His chestnut hair corkscrews into curls so unlike my own sleek, straight hair, but our eyes are the same, dark brown, flecked with gold.

We’re nearly identical, although Jake’s skin is a shade lighter than mine.

There’s so much of me in him that it takes me back to my youth—back when I lived on the reservation.

For a fleeting moment, I let myself remember my cousins and the wild way we played among the trees, so free.

That was a lifetime ago when I was a different person.

“Is everything alright, Mom?”

My son’s question draws me back to the present.

“Yep. I was just thinking about when I was little, like you.”

I run my fingers through his unruly curls, mentally making a note to get him a haircut soon. Jake cocks his head, assessing me.

“Do you ever wanna go back and visit your home?”

Jake knows we’re Lakota and that I grew up on a reservation.

What he doesn’t know is that I’m no longer welcome there.

“Sometimes.”

“Why don’t we go, then?”

“It’s not that simple, chi?kší, I’m sorry.”

“Grown-ups make everything difficult, huh?”

I snort. “Out of the mouth of babes.”

“Ew, I’m not a babe. I’m almost seven!”

“Yes, you are. We’re going to have a big party this year.”

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