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Misunderstanding

ISADORA POV

I threw him an indignant look but couldn’t really stay mad at him, seeing the grin that had accompanied my childhood. Once I was done with Simona, I put her in her crib. I could tell that she was tired. She had refused to go down for her nap at noon. She cried when I stepped back, so I bent over her and rocked the crib until her eyes drooped once more. But the moment I tried to go away, she started wailing again. This time, I didn’t go to her, hoping she’d settle down. Some people said you needed to let the kids soothe themselves and let them cry, but I found that impossibly hard to do.

“She’s really demanding,” Christian commented, leaning in the doorway with crossed arms.

I picked Simona up, trying to figure out what was wrong. She kept wailing, and then without warning, she spit up on me and herself.

“Eww,” Christian said.

With a sigh, I changed her clothes before I put her in the crib again. This time, she quieted after a couple of minutes. I motioned for Christian to
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