Then he pointed directly at Maisie.
She grabbed my sleeve.
“I think he did.”
Cole picked up a football, said something to another player, and threw it into our section.
Several hands went up.
A man behind us yelled, “Let the little girl get it!”
Somehow, the ball came straight to Maisie.
She caught it against her chest and stared at it like she couldn’t believe it was real.
Then her face crumpled.
“Daddy would’ve loved this.”
I was already crying when I hugged her.
That beautiful moment lasted maybe five seconds.
The woman sitting two seats away reached across me, pulled the ball from Maisie’s arms, and handed it to her teenage son.
Her name, I later learned, was Denise.
At that moment, all I knew was that she had just stolen something from
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