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I smiled down at my five year old daughter. She sat on the flour writing a list at five in the morning. I smiled and said: "Darling, It's late, what are you doing up?" She calmly replied: "Writing list things I have to do tomorrow, Daddy!" I smiled at the tone of her voice. Her red hair swished around her face, covering her beautiful green eyes. She did not look the least bit tired, but sounded annoyed that I had not realized what she was doing. I picked her up over my shoulder and said: "Time for bed!" She squealed with anger as I lay her down on her bed. I looked around her room. It was the darkest in the house. She had begged me to paint it black, and I had finally agreed. I lay her down and she instantly when to sleep. I chuckled and closed the door. I locked it. I crept in to bed with Courtney. "Hmm, Duncan? Is she asleep?" she asked. " 'Yup" I smirked. I felt her go to sleep against me. Then my door opened. I froze. Considering it was locked. I felt someone small climb onto my bed. I was about to kick because it was probably Chris. The Bulldog, but then I felt another person get on and felt my little girl cuddle up to me. I smiled.

THE NEXT DAY

I decided we would meet up with Geoff to drop the kids off at kindergarten. My daughter looked great. Her hair was in ribbons, she was wearing a new blue dress. My eldest Geoffrey, who we called Geoff, was packing his lunch. At 10 he was already wearing a vest, dress pants, and a white button up shirt. Nothing like Geoff. My second eldest, Megan, was eight, was looking at a picture book at the table. She had my black hair, but other than that she was a picture of Court. Then there was Nye. My little girl. Her real name was Nyah. But she would only Court call her Nyah. To me, she was Nye. Nye was a little devil most of the time.

We were a pretty rich family, so all the kids had phones, IPods, Tablets, TVs, and computers. I ran a rock shop. Not like, rocks, but like the music, rock. Skate boards, tattoos, music, t-shirts. Court ran her own Lawyer company. The kids were in private school. I didn't like that they were becoming snobby rich kids. But, with Court and Me working, what could I do? In three years, Geoff would go to boarding school, were he would sleep in a dorm, come home for summer and Christmas, and eat good food. You could call us a snob family, but, were all nice, friendly, and kind. Geoff was nothing like me, he was always doing the right thing. He never wanted to get in trouble, and if he did, he always admitted to doing it and apologized.

Nye was adopted from Ohio, and was a red head. When I visited my family in Ohio, Courtney did a case for an abused child. The parents beat, starved, and killed two of their children. They started out in life with three, and ended up with one. I don't know how Courtney doesn't cry in the court room. Nye's two older sisters died when she was two. Her parents killed them. Who could do that to their own kids? I know I couldn't. While Courtney was fighting her case, a little red haired girl, who at three, weighed probably 25 pounds came outside to the waiting room, were I was sitting. Megan was six, Geoff was 8. Megan asked her if she wanted to play with the blocks. The girl smiled and agreed, but when Megan accidently hit her arm, tears sprung in her eyes, and she felt her arm. For the first time, she pulled her sleeve up, to reveal bruises and dried blood.