“Mamashka! Papashka!” Katya screamed as she ran through the playroom tripping over toys and bouncing off peers. Marina remained near the corner where the two of them had been playing. The child stood up and placed a doll on the bench. She did it softly, quietly, and without much interest. A hasty action would have meant the child wasn’t Marina. The little girl watched through her beautiful deep dark eyes with intent observation. Oddly, she didn’t display any noticeable jealousy as Katya rushed to meet us.
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