EPILOGUE

Mikayla watched as the maid diligently turned the pot of soup.

"I think you should add some more water," she directed.

"Yes, ma'am," the girl said and went to grab a cup of water from the tap.

"Mummy! Mummy!"

Mikayla looked down at the kid pulling frantically on her cloth. "What is it, Abe?" She asked.

"Can I turn the soup too?" He asked, giving her a big smile.

His adorable face made her smile. She shook her head.

He knew exactly what he was doing! The boy was too aware of his own good looks.

He thought it could help him get away with anything and get anything he wanted.

"No, Abe. You can't and you know it," she said.

"But mummm! I'm a big boy now. I'm seven years old," he argued.

He'd only turned seven three days ago and already they'd heard that fact at least a million times.

It came up in every argument including when it was his bedtime, when he needed to eat his vegetables and just any other time he could squeeze the argument into.

"Seven is too young to play around the sto