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That Jarod really was a good guy. I guess he was about my dad’s age, maybe a little younger, but sometimes he looked like a kid, like when I taught him to blow a bubble. That was weird, but fun. When I first met him, I thought he was there to get me into trouble, like everyone my mom works with. The next time I thought Mom sent him to check up on me. He kept showing up, like a watchdog. You couldn’t stay angry with him, though, not when he knew so much. He knew what was inside you.