Everything about her has become more vibrant. She’s lost that closed-off, worried look. Every day she becomes more empowered, more confident, more the woman she wants to be. She’s still Ruby. Still my little rocker princess. But it’s like the rough edges have smoothed away. She’s experimenting more, laughing more, and as I watch her doing her makeup from my bed, where I’m still sprawled naked under a sheet, she practically glows. Instead of getting ready in my master bathroom she’s standing at my dresser mirror because I told her I wanted to watch her. She’s wearing nothing but a black bra and—I smile—batman boy shorts. I’ve discovered that Ruby has a fetish for superhero underwear and it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. I put my hand behind my head. “Cute panties.” She glances at me and grins. “Why do I not like the sound of that?” Because she’s a smart girl.
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