Five
“You… made them an i********: account?”
In the face of Malcolm’s disbelief, Charlotte propped one hand on her hip. “Well, of course I did. They’re adorable, and the world needs to see that. Here. Look at all the people being made happy by seeing these three going all boing boing.” She opened the app on her phone and showed him the dozens-deep thread of comments on the latest video she’d posted of the triplets losing their wooly little minds over a bubble machine, bouncing around as if they had springs for legs.
One corner of his mouth twitched, which was practically a full-on grin in Malcolm-speak. When he caught her looking, the twitch disappeared, and he handed back her phone. But it was too late. Charlotte had seen his amusement and wouldn’t forget it.
“We need to get the paint
