Six years later.

As I open the fridge to get my orange juice, my heart almost leaps out of my chest as Conri jumps out of the fridge.

“Boo!”

“Oh my goddess! How the hell did you even get in there?” I shriek as I place a hand on my racing heart to calm it down.

”Language,” Conri yells, giggling like he just did the funniest shit in the world. He tries to run but I grab his cheek and pinch as I scold him.

“Ow! Dad! Mom is hurting me,” he screams as he manages to free himself out of my grasp and run to the living room. Feeling...