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Justicio's mother giggled softly, touched by her husband's earlier words, and gently patted his bald head with her large, tender hands. Her affection lingered as she watched their son walk farther and farther away.
His father groaned, insisting that he had said all he needed to say to "that brat," though his expression betrayed him. As he watched Justicio disappear into the distance, a proud smile spread across his face. He was deeply happy to call the boy his son.
His wife teased him playfully, suggesting that he might find himself happy again soon. He turned to her, confused, demanding to know what she meant, until his eyes widened in sudden realization. She was rubbing her belly.
She hinted that Justicio might soon have a younger sibling.
His face lit up with surprise and concern. He stammered, wondering aloud what would happen if the baby turned out like him, his voice tinged with vulnerability.
