When you get decently high up in the tree, you have a pretty good view of the neighborhood. It takes some work to get up there, and your mom hates it when you do it, but it feels oddly safe in those high branches. Like at least if something is coming for you, you'll be able to see it first.
You try a new book that came out only a week ago. You try revisiting an old favorite. It's hard to pay attention to what you're reading, though. Your mind keeps wandering back to the sound of Rex's voice coming through all that noise.
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