Carrie curled next to Don on the sofa, one leg thrown over his lap. His fingers entwined through her soft strawberry hair.
In his right hand he held the remote control, flipping through channels, finally resting on a Criminal Minds program. For a few moments he listened. “Humph,” he breathed gently.
“I hate this show,” Carrie moaned. “Haven’t you had enough of the real stuff? Haven’t you had enough of crazy people?”
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