Chapter Three: A Shaman

The tinted windows give the car a cold feel, which does nothing for the atmosphere.

“You look just like Henry.”

Cindy says with a faint blush on her cheeks. Did her crush change?

“That’s because he has one of those faces.”

I add with a smile as I rub her hair.

“Here.”

I hand Cindy my phone after setting it to ‘kids mode’ to get her attention off Christopher, and she readily puts on a game. I don’t know the name of the game, but it has to do with raising cute pigs.

“But…if he looks like me, then do I have one of those faces?”

Henry asks with his brows furrowed.

“Of course not. His is just…generic, you know. Doesn’t he look like Phil or Gary?”

I mention the name of our gardener and mailman to instigate him, but Henry only looks more confused.

“I think your mother doesn't know the difference between genetic and generic.”

Christopher says as he passes me some documents in a folder.

“What is this?”

“Flowers.”

He answers.

A sneer curls up my lip at his response.

My fingers open the folder h