She’d flushed in acknowledgment of her mistake but forged ahead, gushing about Maura’s sweet nature and quick mind. “Maura,” he’d said, automatically corrected her on the pronunciation. And his daughter, Mara, was simply a joy to have in her classroom. She absolutely loved children-that was, after all, the reason she’d decided to become a teacher. Her divorce had been final for almost two years and her only regret was that she and her husband never had any children. “Mrs.” Patterson was actually “Ms.” Patterson, as she’d made a point of clarifying when he’d met her at the beginning of the year. Patterson wrote a note in my agenda for you.” “Why are you out of bed?” he asked, more curiosity than censure in his tone. She might be growing up, but she still smelled like his little girl. His lips curved as he breathed in the scent of her shampoo.
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