It Is Strange
One evening, Sarah was busy on a conference call, her laptop perched precariously on the edge of the kitchen counter. Noah was nestled in his crib nearby, and Sparky lay at his feet, eyeing the baby warily.
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As Sarah juggled the call, she spotted a brown stain on Noah’s diaper. Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t noticed it before, but it was there, unmistakably. She quickly excused herself from the call, her mind racing with questions. What was the stain? How had it gotten there?