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ASHOKA | BY E.K. JOHNSTON

       

Kaeden realized it was quite likely that Ashla didn’t know, but it was a question she couldn’t resist asking.

       

“Did your parents bicker?” she asked. “The adoptive ones, I mean.”

       

A slow smile broke across Ashla’s face, curling first one side of her mouth and then the other. Whatever she was remembering, Kaeden could tell it was good.

       

“All the time,” Ashla said, almost as if she were talking to herself.