Jasmine settled back in her car seat; her frown was replaced with a self-satisfied smile. She was quite proud of how effective she was at getting whatever she wanted. She didn’t say another word until her father found a parking place around the corner in the public lot. These spots were usually occupied by the many tourists who came to Coeur d’Alene each summer. As she unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of the car, she said, “You can buy me a new stuffed animal for my bed.”
“Another one? How many do you have already?” her father asked, raising his eyebrows.
“A girl can never have enough stuffed animals,” Jasmine said. The young girl lifted her nose, flipped her wavy, blond ponytail over her shoulder, and marched toward Third Street.
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