e only stopped at the bank for five minutes—just five. I told my son to stay close while I used the ATM in the lobby. He was in one of those curious moods—the kind where every little thing seemed fascinating. He wanted to know how ceiling fans worked, where money “came from inside the wall,” and why the security cameras “watched people all the time.” I smiled at his endless questions, but in that short span of time, I turned around and discovered something unexpected. There he was, standing confidently near the front entrance, chatting away with two California Highway...
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