Chapter 182
Angelina found a bench near the basement and sat down, gently rubbing the bruised spot on her ankle. It really hurt. Every step sent a jolt of pain through her leg.
A gust of wind swept past, and she pulled Catherine's blanket a little tighter, cradling the baby in her arms. Catherine was blowing spit bubbles, puckering her lips, and playing with her own drool.
Angelina took out her phone and snapped a few photos. She was going to save all these silly, funny faces and show them to Catherine when she grew up. Those photos were dorky but kind of endearing.
…
Back at home, Emily was still busy cooking. Florence taught her how to make fried catfish. With Florence guiding her every step of the way, Emily actually did a pretty decent job. The smell was strong, but the flavor was totally worth it.
Florence chuckled. "This kind of dish—you either love it or can't stand even a single bite. She likes blue cheese pies, sauerkraut, all that funky stuff that stinks but tastes like heaven. She

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