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11- The Plan

“What is going on?” my father asked as soon as he turned his head around the corner.

Russo quickly moved his hand away and looked up at my dad. This was the second time that day my father walked in on us.

“I injured my foot, so he was helping me clean it up,” I replied

“Is that what all this blood is about?” my father asked

“Yep.”

“So when is this blood going to get cleaned up?”

I looked at my father, puzzled. He completely ignored the fact that my foot was injured and I was in a little pain and discomfort, and he was already looking for me to clean up the rest of my blood in the house like I intentionally went around dripping.

I looked over at Russo, who quickly removed the medical gloves and threw in everything back into the first aid kit.

“You will be fine,” he said in his normal voice and stood up.

I slowly removed my foot off the table and limped around the house to get cleaning supplies to mop away the rest of my blood, leaving Russo and my father to talk.

“Since when do
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