Severard smiled behind the mask. "That your ol' man, Vit?" Severard looked at the boy, hardly thirteen by the look of him. Vitari answered him, a proud and defensive tone in her voice. A tone she'd gotten from Severard.
"He's my Papa, al'ight. Ya better be nice." For a four year old she certainly could talk well enough. The boy looked Severard up and down, seeming to think on it before cracking a crooked smirk.
"Well, if'n ya be al'ight wit' Vit ya be al'ight wit' me." As if a silent signal went off, the others came beside the boy, asking questions or asking to play. Severard was at a loss; he barely knew how to play with Vitari, let alone ten other kids.
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"And that's the only other option." Mark muttered, running a hand through his hair. He was no surgeon and he knew Dawn wasn't either for that matter. Mrs. Libby knew a thing or two about surgary but never taking a chip out of someone. "And whose going to preform the surgary, Dawn? I can't, you can't; Benji won't and Logan I know can't. One wrong cut or tug and you could send the girls into a coma."



